


thinking about peaches

by falsegoodnight



Series: peach [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, BDSM, Bottom Louis, Dom Harry, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:06:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26199049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falsegoodnight/pseuds/falsegoodnight
Summary: Eight smutty drabbles following the events ofbruise you like a peach.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: peach [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902613
Comments: 112
Kudos: 558





	1. nice and easy

**Author's Note:**

> While I did plan on doing drabbles for this universe, I never expected it to turn into _this._ Some of them include requests that people sent to clicktosubmit and most of it just came from me and what I’ve been dying to write. There’s a lot of things I wanted to add to the peach fic but had to refrain because I didn’t want it to be too long and it’s all here now! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope people have fun reading it too. 
> 
> If you did request something and it’s not here, than I’m keeping it for a tumblr drabble to do whenever I get in the mood! And if I write enough tumblr drabbles in the future, I’ll add a third part to this series! :)
> 
> Some disclaimers: this is not an official sequel! It’s eight SMUTTY drabbles that do take place chronologically following the peach fic and stretching through senior year. There is some elements of plot but it’s very minor and very vague. It’s pretty much smut and fluff and it’s self-indulgent and maybe completely unnecessary but I’m sure some of you can appreciate it. Also, while these drabbles do happen chronologically, you don’t necessarily have to read all of them especially if there’s something you’re not a fan of. I mention specific tags to every drabble in the chapter notes but if you want to see it all collected together, look at the drabble index [here.](https://twitter.com/falsegoodnight)
> 
> I would, on the other hand, definitely recommend reading bruise you like a peach before this for vital context if you haven’t already. 
> 
> Also, just wanted to let you all know that my classes started this past week which means my free time is about to go down exponentially. I have no idea what that means for my posting schedule. I’ve been posting two fics per month (except this month where I posted THREE) but I don’t know if I’ll be able to maintain that pace. I also don’t know if I’ll be able to get a main fic out on the 9th like usual but there will be a fic in September, I promise. 
> 
> Thank you to [Sarah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldouthaz/pseuds/soldouthaz) for reading this through for me! And [Nessa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hazelslwt/pseuds/hazelslwt) for making the lovely moodboard!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: phone sex, masturbation, size difference, light degradation (including one instance of “cockslut”)

**_Late May -_ **

Louis’ two hours away at one of his old friend’s parties when Harry gets a call from him. 

He’s been a bit out of sorts all day, a little lost without Louis next to him for the first time since he returned to London after visiting his family and realizing he’s going to miss Louis too much to spend the summer without him. Apparently, even six hours is too much to be away from each other. 

That’s how long he’s been gone and Harry is itching to have him back in his arms. They’re maybe a bit too clingy, but Harry refuses to feel guilty about it. It’s only been a few weeks since they’ve made things official, after all. Louis is his now and now that he can have him whenever he wants, he wants it all the time. 

Apparently Louis is on the same page because the first thing he says to Harry is, “I’m in the bathroom. Talk me off.”

“What?” Harry asks, blinking as the words process. When they register completely, he repeats, “ _What?_ ” 

“M’horny,” Louis mumbles, sounding shy. Harry would bet anyone a million dollars his cheeks are stained pink. And he’d pay a million dollars to see it himself. 

“You’re horny?” Harry repeats, amused. 

Louis huffs. “You’ve been fucking me every morning - sometimes _twice_ \- for the past few weeks. We didn’t do it today and I’m suffering from the loss.”

Harry smirks. “Drama queen much, sweetheart? Or _cockslut,_ I suppose. Either works,” he drawls. To tell the truth, he’s suffering from the loss too. Over the past month, his brain and his dick have both gotten used to fucking every morning. 

They really are clingy. 

“Shut _up_ ,” Louis groans. “I’m horny.”

“And you want me to talk you off,” Harry says flatly. “In your friend’s bathroom?”

“Well, I could do it without you too but I think you’d prefer it this way, don’t you?” Louis asks, all self-assured and smug. Now that they’re dating, Louis has become a lot more assertive and confident when it comes to getting what he wants. He’s still a bratty little sub who turns to mush when Harry puts him in his place, but now he’s less insecure and unsure of his role and of Harry’s feelings toward him. It’s a testament to how much he trusts Harry now, how much he feels comfortable with it. 

Not to mention, Harry loves it. 

“I do,” he agrees, lips curving up despite his efforts. “How could I ever pass up a chance to make you come, baby?” 

“So make me come,” Louis presses. His voice has gone the slightest bit breathy, but it’s not the breathy tone he has when he’s getting turned on. No, it’s the breathy tone when he’s trying to concentrate but he can’t because he’s too busy feeling-

“Did you already start?” Harry blurts, brows furrowed. 

He gets a small whimper in response, followed by a shaky sigh. 

Harry tightens his grip on his phone, standing up from his desk and plopping onto his bed. He lies back, frowning. “Peach, did you call me to get you off and then start before I told you to?” His voice lowers to something more stern almost naturally. 

Louis doesn’t answer, breathing uneven into Harry’s ear. 

“I asked you a question,” Harry reprimands. 

“Yes,” Louis breathes, sounding eager and anticipatory and not the slightest bit guilty. Typical. 

Harry tsks. “Take your hand off your cock, baby,” he says firmly. 

He hears Louis’ sigh of frustration as he supposedly complies. Harry is sure that he did, but it brings up another thought. 

“Let me see you, peach,” he directs, hitting the button and waiting for Louis to accept. 

When he does, Harry sees a slightly grainy image of Louis leaning up against a pale green wall, hair mussed and eyes half-lidded and hazy. He’s got lip gloss on, shiny and pink, and his collarbone sticks out distinctly thanks to the low neckline of his maroon shirt. He looks gorgeous and Harry really, really misses him. 

Louis angles the camera down to reveal his rucked up shirt and the leaking prick flush against his stomach, free of fingers and hands like Harry asked. 

“Good boy,” Harry murmurs, sitting up and scooting back until he’s leaning against the headboard. He’s already mostly naked, the sticky summer weather too hot for him to stand any fabric against his heated skin for most of the day, so all he has to do is shove his briefs down enough for him to pull his dick out, already filling up at the sight of a pretty boy with a pretty cock making pretty sounds. 

Well, technically, Louis’ just breathing right now but it sounds pretty to Harry’s easily aroused length and a few strokes gets him to complete hardness quickly. 

“Spit on your hand,” Harry grunts. He knows Louis likes the rough drag but he doesn’t want to risk it when he’s not there to monitor pain versus pleasure. 

Louis obliges quickly, a thin string of saliva remaining as a link once he’s spit into his palm. 

“Wrap your hand around your cock for me, darling,” Harry croons. Louis has told him before that his voice sounds even deeper and grittier over the phone so he takes advantage of it now. 

Shuddering, Louis does as he’s told, wrapping his delicate fingers around his length but not moving. Good boy, Harry thinks. 

“Small hands,” Harry murmurs slowly. “If I was there, I could wrap one whole hand around your little prick. Couldn’t I, peach?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, voice wobbling as he blushes. 

“But yours will have to do,” Harry continues casually, curling one of his own hands around his dick. He’s always known he has a thing for partners being smaller than him (in more ways than one) but sometimes he just gets overwhelmed, dizzy and drowsy with it. This feels like one of those times. “Squeeze yourself. Tight enough to hurt,” he breathes out slowly through his nose.“Because that’s how you want it.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis babbles, squeezing himself with shaky fingers and exhaling jaggedly. His eyes are closed tight, lips slick and parted as he pants. 

“Thumb over the tip,” Harry directs, doing the same for himself. “Get yourself nice and wet.”

Louis does, whimpering softly as he spreads precum to smoothen the glide. His head tips back against the wall with a muted thud. 

“Okay, you can start,” Harry says. “But _slowly._ ” 

He starts stroking himself too, throat dry as he watches the flush on Louis’ cheeks spread down his throat to his neck as he slides his hand up and down carefully. His fingers are trembling- _he_ is trembling, shuddering and letting out soft sounds as he gets himself off. 

“Slide a hand up your shirt and play with your nipples,” Harry orders, voice hoarse and gritty. “Are they nice and hard for me?” 

Harry bites back a groan when Louis pulls his shirt up and pinches his right nipple, jerking and gasping out a _“Yes.”_ He speeds up his own movements as Louis continues tweaking the sensitive nubs, face contorting with pleasure as his hand strokes shakily. He watches as his limbs go sluggish and heavy with an impending orgasm, face slackening as he reaches his peak. 

“Don’t come yet, baby,” Harry says, thrusting up into his fist. “Wait for me.” 

Louis nods, head tilted back and up so Harry can see the bob of his adam’s apple as he gets more and more worked up. 

He squeezes on the upstroke, reaching back to fondle his balls as he gets closer and closer to the edge. Louis’ features blur as he thrusts up into his fist again. “Let go, peach,” he grunts, twisting just right and groaning through his release right as Louis moans, coming just after. 

After a minute in which the only sounds pounding in his ears are stilted breaths and the thundering of his own heart, he clears his throat. 

“Clean yourself up, baby,” he says, voice gritty. “Wash your face and wait five more minutes before going out.” He pauses, biting his lip. “Don’t want anyone seeing you like this,” he admits. 

Louis rolls his eyes, but he looks secretly pleased. 

Harry makes Louis stay on the call as he washes his hands and tucks himself back into his jeans. It’s to make sure he looks presentable and that he’s alright, yes, but also because Harry really just doesn’t want to hang up. 

He begins to think Louis feels the same when he finishes cleaning up and stares at the screen with hesitation in his features, a frown on his pretty bitten lips. 

“So, um, how late do you think you’re going to stay?” Harry asks, trying to sound casual. 

“I… I dunno,” Louis shrugs, lips pursing. He clears his throat, looking sheepish. “You know, I don’t even know Lucas that well anyway,” he continues, eyes flickering over to somewhere out of Harry’s view. “We already had a short conversation but I don’t think I’ll be missed if I, um, headed back early?” He looks like he didn’t intend for the latter to come out as a question but it does. Like he’s unsure of what Harry’s reaction will be. 

“Oh,” says Harry, a small smile curving onto his lips. “Maybe so… but maybe there’s something better waiting for you back here anyway.”

“Something better, like what?” Louis asks, eyes soft.

Harry grins lazily. “Me,” he says easily, before gesturing down at his softening dick with a wink, “and my cock.” 

Louis snorts. “Arrogant son of a bitch,” he mutters, but he’s still smiling. 

“Come back to me, baby,” Harry whispers, unashamed of how much he wants Louis, wants to slide right into him and make him come a second and maybe third time, wants to order takeout and watch shitty tv shows and then fall asleep wrapped around him. They’re in their honeymoon phase, sue him. 

“Fine, I suppose I will,” Louis smiles, looking half exasperated and half happy. 

Harry just looks at him for a minute, eyes wandering over his unfairly beautiful face and delicate features. His kind, bright eyes, his soft smile, the adorable scrunch in his button nose, the small crinkles at the corner of his eyes. How blissed out and content he looks after an orgasm. The quality is decent but not the same as seeing all of these little details in person- when he can reach out and touch as he stares. 

“I’ll be waiting,” he says belatedly. 

There's another pause in which Harry just gazes at Louis unabashedly until his cheeks go pink again. 

“Gonna hang up now,” he whispers, blushing. 

"Okay," Harry whispers back. 

Louis doesn’t hang up for another few minutes, but Harry doesn’t mind too much. 

-


	2. taste so sweet (it hurts a little)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: foodplay, blowjobs and face fucking, nipple play, pillow humping, finger sucking (minor)
> 
> NOTE: this drabble was referenced in the last part of **_bruise you like a peach!_**

_**Late June (Baby, you're the end of June) -** _

They’re going to eat peaches.

It was Harry’s turn to do the groceries and they weren’t on the list but the moment he saw their familiar reddish orange soft hues and a familiar scent wafted into his nostrils, he knew he had to get them. 

Louis straight up laughs at him when Harry presents them to him with a flourish, feet dangling off the side of the counter where he’s perched as Harry cuts them up. 

“They’re my favorites,” Harry says, smiling because Louis is adorable even when he’s being bratty. He pauses to wipe some sweat off his forehead, grumbling about the heat. It’s just so fucking hot and sticky and he had to take off his shirt a few minutes ago because the fabric was slick and grating against his skin. He’s got half a mind to just strip everything off and lounge around naked. Niall and Liam aren’t around so it’s not like he’d get in trouble. 

“Right,” says Louis, dragging out the syllable in sarcasm. 

“They are,” Harry insists, taking a bite out of one just to prove it. The sweet, tangy taste explodes on his taste buds and he hums. “Delicious.” 

“Give me one then, idiot,” Louis demands, making grabby hands at Harry until he comes over, settling between Louis’ legs and holding a slice to his lips. “Seriously?” Louis asks, amused. 

Harry wiggles the fruit, smirking. “Open up, baby.”

Louis rolls his eyes but opens all the same, letting Harry feed him the slice. 

He definitely didn’t anticipate Louis swallowing around his fingers, tongue darting out to lick up the excess juice. The sound of his heart pounding is deafening, cock stirring in his shorts as Louis bats his eyelashes at him, coy and sultry. 

Swallowing thickly, he clears his throat and retracts his fingers reluctantly. “Another, kitten?” he asks, voice hoarse.

Louis nods, eyes darkened with lust as Harry feeds him another slice, unconsciously crowding closer between his legs. 

The peaches he bought were ripe and succulent and this time, some of the juice dribbles out of Louis’ mouth this time, trickling down his chin and to his neck. 

“Oh,” says Louis, moving a hand up to wipe it away. 

Before he can do it, Harry surges forward and  _ licks  _ it up, tongue soaking up all the sweet nectar. He pauses for a moment, breathing harshly. Louis is frozen still, chest rising and falling with every breath. The tension between them pulses. Cautiously, Harry drags his lips up to Louis’ and slots them together, sticky and wet. 

Louis whimpers, soft and high, and that’s what breaks Harry’s restraint. 

He grabs hold of Louis’ hips, pulling him to the edge of the counter until his legs lock around his waist. Louis winds his arms around his neck tightly, mouth opening for Harry’s tongue to lick in. 

The wisps of an idea form in his brain, making his cock throb. “Baby,” Harry mumbles, hands coming up to cup Louis’ face. “Baby, one second.” 

The pout on Louis’ lips when he pulls away makes him smile, nosing across Louis’ cheekbones before pressing that smile to his neck. 

“Bedroom,” he says once he can, eyes flickering up to Louis’ half-lidded ones. “Wanna lick peach juice off your stomach.”

Louis shudders, nodding and letting Harry hoist him up. 

He keeps one hand spread out on Louis’ back for support, using his other to grab the abandoned bowl of peach slices before striding to the bedroom. 

A groan is ripped from his throat when Louis takes it upon himself to mouth at his jaw, sharp little teeth grazing against his skin followed by his small tongue to soothe the sting. 

“You know,” Harry begins, pushing through his bedroom door and into his room. He opened the windows earlier so bright afternoon light is flooding the space, casting almost a heavenly glow over his white sheets. 

It’s really fucking hot still so he hits the switch for the ceiling fan before staggering to the bed. “You remind me of peaches,” he says, “and not just because of the smell.”

“Then what?” Louis asks, looking amused as Harry gently sets him on the mattress, setting the bowl next to Louis’ hip. 

Harry sucks his bottom lip into his, biting down absently and getting distracted as he rucks Louis’ shirt up to expose soft honeyed skin. 

“You’re as soft as a peach,” he starts and Louis raises an eyebrow. He smirks, licking a stripe up Louis’ stomach and leaving sticky fruit residue in his wake. “Taste as sweet as peach.”

“And let me guess, you love eating both of us,” Louis murmurs, eyes hazy as Harry climbs onto the bed and crawls over him. 

Harry hums, nodding. Abruptly, he leans down and begins sucking on the sensitive spot below Louis’ ear. He’s not gentle about it either, teeth scraping against smooth skin as dark red blooms across sun-soaked tan. 

Louis’ breath hitches and his fingers curl around Harry’s biceps automatically. 

“Bruise like a peach too,” Harry murmurs, pressing his thumb into the mark he made. 

“Jesus,” Louis breathes, blinking languidly. 

“No, just Harry,” Harry grins. 

He gets kicked in the shin for that, which, fair enough. 

Louis’ shirt gets pulled off and flung across the room and Harry shoves his shorts down so he’s just in his briefs, reaching for the bowl and grabbing a peach slice. He crushes it in his hand, ignoring Louis’ squeal when the cold juice trickles down onto his chest. 

Then he takes the squeezed peach and pushes it against Louis’ lips. “Open,” he orders. 

The way Louis automatically opens and then proceeds to let Harry feed him the slice, eyes fluttering shut and slick lips suckling around his fingers, makes him feel dizzy. 

He does a few more slices too, letting the juice dribble down onto Louis’ stomach and pool at his belly button like they’re setting up for body shots. 

“Color?” Harry asks. It’s not necessarily anything dangerous they’re doing here, but it’s still something they didn’t discuss beforehand so he wants to make sure Louis is completely comfortable with it. 

“Green,” Louis says immediately. 

Harry licks a stripe down Louis’ chest before sucking the juice from his belly button, feeling Louis quiver beneath him. Even though they’re not doing actual body shots and there’s no lime in Louis’ mouth, he slots their lips together anyway, letting Louis taste the peaches from his lips as he licks into his mouth. 

Louis moans, fingers curling into his hair and body arching up into him. “Do it again,” he mumbles into Harry’s mouth. 

And who is Harry to deny him? 

He does the next few licking juice from Louis’ collarbone, pausing to suck a bruise on his neck before kissing Louis again. And then another two licking up his neck and sucking juice from the hollow of his throat, tongue lingering on his pulse to feel the vibrations of his pounding heart. 

He’s flushed down to his chest, growing hard in his sleep shorts. Harry palms over the tented material lightly, basking in the way Louis shivers and whines, hips bucking up into the air. 

“Want me to do something about that?” he asks. 

Louis shakes his head much to his surprise. “Want you to fuck my throat,” he blurts, words running together breathlessly. 

Harry shudders at that, nodding. He grabs a pillow and sets it flat on the mattress. “On your front,” he commands, wanting Louis to have the opportunity to rut down against it when he inevitably gets desperate. He loves when Harry fucks his throat- it’s like he gets off on it almost as much as Harry does. 

In this position, Harry can play with Louis’ nipples too, make him choke easier. 

He gets off the bed and slides his briefs down, cock hanging heavy between his legs as he crowds in close to the mattress where Louis is laying, propped up on his elbows with his mouth gaping in wait. 

“Color?” he asks again. 

“Green,” says Louis instantly. Harry opens his mouth and Louis interrupts, “And tap your leg three times if I want to stop, I know.” 

Harry nods, amused at Louis’ impatience. He grips his cock, stroking it idly while his other hand cups the side of Louis’ face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. 

He slaps his cock against Louis’ open mouth lazily, then against his cheeks and chin, eyes tracking the thin ribbons of precum it leaves in his wake. He then lines up, easing the head of his cock into Louis’ wet, warm mouth. 

The pressure feels amazing right from the get go and it takes all his willpower not to thrust in completely just yet. He bites his lip and waits, inching in bit by bit until Louis swallows around his length, looking up at him with watery eyes. He looks like pure sin, eyelashes clumped together, cheeks flushed and hollowed, and his neck covered with marks. 

“Starting now, peach,” he murmurs, thumbing over the bulge of his dick in Louis’ cheek as he pulls out slowly before pushing back in. 

Louis exhales through his nostrils, mouth contracting around his cock perfectly as Harry slides in deeper and deeper. 

He picks up the pace when Louis doesn’t protest, thrusting deep enough for the head of his cock to brush the back of his throat. Louis chokes around it, eyes watering even more as Harry holds it there for a moment before finally pulling back. 

Harry reaches down with his free hand and pinches Louis’ nipple, being liberal with involving his fingernails and smirking when Louis jerks, whining around his cock. He continues rolling the nub in his fingers, tightening his hold on Louis’ head when it lolls back.

“Sensitive,  _ pretty, _ little nipples,” he drawls, switching to the left one and keeping Louis steady as he fucks in faster and Louis gags, muscles tightening around his cock. 

Louis whines again, hips slowly rocking forwards into the pillow as he seeks friction against his own leaking prick. Harry continues playing with his nipples, making it hurt in the best way possible- in the way Louis likes best. His own hips snap forward and his orgasm builds in his stomach. 

“Come in your pants,” Harry coaxes him on. “That’s how good I make you feel, isn’t it? So good you can’t even wait to get your cock out.” He tuts deliberately, fucking in again as Louis shudders, whimpering. The pressure from his mouth feels so good but Harry always wants Louis to come first because Louis is his priority. 

He curls his hand to the back of his neck, pushing him forward right as he thrusts, making him choke. His thumb is still on Louis’ cheek, pulling at the corner of his mouth until it stretches and Louis falters, rutting down against the pillow more firmly until he goes rigid and comes, mouth going slack as Harry chases his own release. 

Louis somehow manages to muster enough energy to stick his tongue out, making the sensation even more smooth as Harry glides in and out of his mouth. He comes with a groan, pretty lips wrapped around his head as Louis swallows all of it. 

A small trickle leaks out from the corner of his mouth and Harry wipes it up, feeding it to him and shivering when Louis suckles on his fingers easily, humming. 

“Good boy,” he says, leaning down to press their lips together and suck on Louis’ tongue, tasting himself.

He braces Louis’ carefully, maneuvering him into laying back down so he can slide his messy shorts and boxers down. He pulls away after a moment, staring at Louis wordlessly and committing the expression of satisfaction and pleasure to his memory to replay later again and again. 

Then he reaches for the bowl of peaches and presses it to Louis’ lips, smiling when he sees them curve up at the corners. 

“My favorite fruit,” he says softly as Louis opens his mouth and takes his offering. “And my favorite boy.” 

Louis pulls him down for another sticky kiss as the sun burns through the room and bleeds its warmth into their naked bodies. Harry cages him in against the sheets, holding him close and when they stop snogging, feeding him peaches. 

It’s close to the end of the month, he realizes as the sky turns orange and they curl into each other. It’s the end of June and their first full month as a couple. Harry’s pretty sure the past four weeks can be summed up in one word: Louis. Louis is peaches and the end of June and the entirety of summer and everything soft and sweet and vulnerable and beautiful.

As far as Harry’s concerned, he’s  _ everything.  _

-


	3. you sunshine, you temptress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: louis in lace, lingerie, feminization, anal sex, riding, nipple play, face smushing, fishhooking
> 
> Special thank you to Chelsea for also looking this over for me!

**_September -_ **

Harry comes back from his shift at the cafe to Louis acting strange. 

Not strange as in suspicious, more strange in a _I know something you don’t_ way. A layer of something mischievous in his eyes and an edge in his smile. 

He does his best to ignore it, not wanting to give his little brat the attention he’s so clearly seeking. The day goes by like any other Saturday in early September. Louis came over last night after his last class and stayed over so they sleep in till noon, lazily making out in the sheets before Louis complains about being hungry. Harry makes them pancakes and then Louis gets syrup in his hair when he tangles his fingers in it to pull him down for another kiss. 

They lounge around and watch TV and attempt to do homework without getting distracted. In the evening, Harry goes to the gym with Liam before going to pick up Louis from his family’s house where he was babysitting his younger twins and they get dinner to-go, staring at the orange hazy sky and enjoying the cold blast of the air conditioner (a welcome reprieve to the sticky heat of mid-July). 

After another film post-dinner, they retire to Harry’s room where Harry immediately backs Louis against the wall, dragging his lips down his throat. “What’s up with you today, kitten?” he asks, voice lowering. He reaches up to toy with the jeweled peach barrette in his hair. Harry had been the one to buy it- saw it in the store completely randomly and figured it was fate. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Louis says briskly, leaning into the touch.

Harry raises an eyebrow, hands coming up to grip Louis by the hips and push him further into the wall. He savors the hitch in breathing it causes, Louis’ eyes going hazy as Harry presses his lips to his pulse. “What are you up to?” he whispers hoarsely. 

Louis just smirks at him, lips curling at the edges like he’s trying to tamp it down and failing. 

Placing a thumb on his glossy bottom lip, his gaze focuses on the outline of his mouth, glistening and stained pink. Now that he thinks about it, Louis is wearing mascara too. He noticed it earlier but didn’t think too much of it because sometimes Louis likes to mess around with makeup. 

However, it’s odd that he didn’t wipe it off when he was finished. It’s odd that he’s standing here at eleven in the bedroom still wearing makeup and batting his eyelashes at Harry like he’s got a plan. 

“Just c’mere,” Louis mumbles against the pad of his thumb, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and pulling him down. 

Harry removes his finger and replaces it with his mouth, the strawberry flavor meeting his taste buds as he licks into Louis’ open mouth, one hand coming up to cradle the back of his neck and tilt his head where he wants it. 

His other hand slides under Louis’ shirt, palm flattening against smooth, warm skin on the small of his back. He skims his fingers down, touches featherlight and teasing until he reaches Louis’ waistband which he curls his fingers around. 

He freezes. 

Louis breaks their kiss, leaning back against the wall with an innocent expression on his face. 

Throat dry, Harry swallows. “Lou?” he breathes, sucking in a breath when he presses down again and his fingers meet a rough, _lacy_ texture. 

He runs his fingers over the fabric, a realization sinking into him slowly. “Baby,” he says hoarsely, head ducking down so his lips brush over the base of his neck. He curls his fingers into the lacy trim reverently. “Baby, what is this?”

Louis still doesn’t answer but he can see a sliver of the shy but smug smile on his lips from his peripheral and it makes him feel even more dizzy. _He knows exactly what he’s doing,_ he thinks. 

God, Harry is going to self-combust if he doesn’t get Louis naked in the next minute. 

With that in mind, he grips Louis by the hips again and slowly moves away from the wall, turning them so it’s Louis stumbling backwards until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed. He guides him down to the mattress, watching as Louis’ eyes go dark and hazy and his lips part unconsciously. 

“What are you wearing, baby?” he asks, stern and silky. “Answer me.”

“I’m a _lady,_ ” Louis whispers, lips curling up. “Not gonna talk about my unmentionables to a man who looks like he’s going to eat me.” 

Harry’s heart skips a beat and he exhales roughly, even dizzier than before. So that’s what they’re doing tonight, another thing they’ve talked about.“A lady, hm?” he murmurs slowly, carefully taking hold of Louis’ wrists and pinning them above his head with one steady hand. 

The effect is instantaneous- Louis sighs, blinks sluggish as he gazes at Harry with half-lidded eyes.

“I’ll treat you like a lady then,” Harry whispers, leaning down to drag his lips up Louis’ neck to his cheek where he lingers. 

Louis shudders underneath him, hands clutching his shoulders tightly. 

For a second, his confident mask slips and Harry sees a flicker of vulnerability flash in his face. He rests his forehead on Louis’, noses brushing. “Are you comfortable, sweetheart?” He keeps his tone soft and tender, comforting. 

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, swallowing. His eyelashes flutter- delicate, always so delicate. “I’m just- nervous?”

“Do you want me to kiss you a bit first?” Harry asks, letting go of Louis’ wrists so he’s more coherent and not flustered. “Or do you just want to sleep, baby? Either way works. It’s your choice.”

Louis shakes his head, pouting. “I dressed up,” he says, all shy and timid. “For _you,_ ” he adds, cheeks flushing pink.

Harry needs a second to recover, eyes closing as his heart and lungs flood with feeling. He opens them a second later, gaze reverent as it wanders over Louis’ lovely features. “Did you know I’m the luckiest man in the world?” 

The blush on Louis’ cheeks grows and he turns his head into the bed, smiling softly. “Take my clothes off,” he mumbles. “Green,” he adds after Harry opens his mouth. “I’m green.” 

“You take them off,” Harry counters then, mouthing at the sensitive spot below Louis’ ear. “Show me what you picked out for me.” He thumbs at Louis’ glossy bottom lip again, insides dripping with an urge to lick it all off. “Got all dolled up and pretty all for me, didn’t you? Such a sweet girl. _My_ good girl.” 

Louis exhales, shivering as he carefully takes his hands off Harry’s shoulders and brings them down to the hem of his shirt. He seems to change his mind then, a smile crinkle between his eyes before he grips the waistband of his shorts and pushes them down. 

Harry watches in bated silence, the pounding of his heart growing deafening as the red lace is slowly revealed. _Thong._ Red, lace thong. “Jesus,” he whispers, eyes glued to the sight of deep crimson against honeyed soft skin, the way the fabric sits snug over Louis’ cock, most likely grazing over the sensitive head uncomfortably. He bets Louis likes the feeling though, bets he likes it a lot, if not only for the small wet spot that lies glaringly obvious where the head is tucked. 

He places a hand on Louis’ upper leg, the tips of his fingers curling into the sensitive skin of his inner thigh and making Louis shiver again. 

“Baby, you’re already wet for me,” he murmurs softly, almost wondrously. He trails his fingers over the top of the panties, feeling Louis tremble beneath him. God, he looks so. “Perfect,” he breathes. “Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he continues, not even lying. He drags a finger down the center of the thong, over Louis’ small bulge. It’s fleeting but deliberate. 

Louis squirms at the feeling, blushing even more. It’s blossomed from a soft pink to a deep red, so his cheeks match his underwear. 

“Don’t think I want to take this off,” Harry murmurs conversationally. He can’t stop looking, cock straining against his own shorts as he slides a finger under the thin band. It’s flimsy, leaving the tops of Louis’ thighs exposed along where the skin is soft and lighter. “Want to leave them on and make a mess of you in your pretty knickers. Sound good, kitten?”

“Harry,” Louis breathes, voice wavering slightly. He sounds overwhelmed but eager, not nervous anymore. He reaches for his shirt, slowly bringing it up and revealing the soft golden expanse of his stomach. 

Harry leans in to nuzzle against it, hopelessly enamored with the small pudge of his tummy and his belly button. Except, he catches a flash of red and quickly freezes, mouth dropping open in surprise and awe as Louis drags the material up and over his head, leaving his torso bare except for the lacy bralette hooked over his shoulders and hanging loose against his chest. 

It’s red like the thong, transparent and loose enough for Harry to see Louis’ pink nipples through the fabric.

He doesn’t realize he’s been rendered speechless until Louis’ eyes dart to his, wide and unsure. He ducks his head, body shifting like he’s uncomfortable under Harry’s intense scrutiny. “Do you like it?”

Does he like it? Harry’s throat is dry and heavy with emotion, fingers twitching to hold Louis down and then come all over his bra and panties. The bra and panties he wore especially for Harry, God. “Peach,” he breathes, entirely helpless and overwhelmed. “God, Lou, you’re the most stunning creature I’ve ever seen.”

Louis goes soft at that, lips rolling together like he’s pleased. “Good,” he whispers. “I know you like me in red, so.” He trails off, shrugging. 

“I like you in everything,” Harry admits, words spilling out of their own accord, “and in nothing at all. But this- God, baby, you’re gorgeous.” He lifts his hands, hesitating. “Can I?”

He gets a nod in response so he carefully runs his hands up Louis’ smooth sides, keeping his touches tender and soothing until he reaches the bottom of the bralette and suddenly, all the breath in his lungs has left his body. He traces over the hem, admiring the scalloped details before gently pressing over Louis’ nipples. 

Flicking over one experimentally, he receives a sharp jump in response, Louis’ mouth falling open in a surprised gasp. The rough texture grazing over his already so sensitive nubs must feel much more overwhelming than usual. Harry is intrigued. 

“You love it when I play with your tits, don’t you?” he murmurs, rubbing over the fabric directly over his nipple and watching Louis’ head loll back onto the mattress like he can’t help it. 

Louis whimpers, soft and high, arching up into the touch as Harry pinches and flicks at them, rough and teasing. 

He pauses to cup both parts of the bralette, like he’s actually cupping two handfuls of breasts in his hands. He pushes in, kneading and massaging at Louis’ chest until he’s squirming again. “Such lovely tits,” he whispers, heart thundering in his ears. 

Then he leans down and mouths at the fabric, feeling Louis stiffen as he licks a stripe over the lace and his nipple underneath it. He starts shaking then, whimpering as Harry scrapes his teeth over each bud and gets into it, sucking and licking and soaking the lace with saliva. Making a mess just like he promised. 

Harry feels lightheaded, a low thrum buzzing in his head as he leans back to take off his singlet and then plank back over Louis, caging him in against the bed. He parts Louis’ lips with one finger, stuffing two fingers in his mouth and pulling at the corner of his mouth until it stretches. “What do you want me to do to you, kitten?” he murmurs. 

Louis’ mascara is smudged, eyes watery and glazed over as Harry ducks down to suck at his pulse some more. It’s his favorite place to leave bruises, able to feel the steady pace of Louis’ heart pumping blood and beating for only them to hear. “Want,” Louis gasps when Harry bites down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. “Want to ride you.” 

“Yeah?” Harry grunts, fingers gliding down to slide under the thin strap of the thong. The wet spot has grown through his past ministrations, precum soaking the fabric and turning the vibrant red into deep burgundy. “Does my little temptress want to show off for me?” 

“Yes,” Louis breathes, nudging at his stomach until he begrudgingly gets off of him and rolls over so he’s on his back. Louis bats his hands away when he goes to shove his shorts down, his own small hands gripping the hem and tugging it down. 

Harry becomes increasingly aware of how fucking hard he is, hissing when Louis pulls his briefs down too and the material drags over his aching length. 

“Good girls know how to please,” Louis says coyly, wrapping his slim fingers around Harry’s cock and beginning to jack him off expertly. 

Groaning, Harry cradles his face and pulls him down into a bruising kiss. Strawberry lip gloss gets smeared over his own lips and tongue as he slots their lips together and licks into his mouth. 

“Lube,” he mumbles biting down on Louis’ bottom lip and stiffening when Louis strokes him just right. 

“S’under your pillow like always, idiot,” Louis mumbles back, hissing when Harry slaps his arse in rebuke. 

He gets it anyway, uncapping it one handed and getting ready to coat his fingers when Louis takes it from him. 

“Fingered myself in the shower after dinner,” he says, breaking the kiss and smirking. 

Harry groans again. “You little minx.” 

“I’m an _efficient_ lady,” Louis says, fingers cold with lube as he slicks Harry up. “Always prepared and ready.” He pushes Harry back until he’s laying down again, ducking down to press an open-mouthed kiss to the head of his cock before he’s straddling his hips and lining up. 

He doesn’t take the thong off, just pulls the fabric aside as he slowly eases himself down. 

Harry holds him steady, squeezing the flesh at his hips as Louis seats himself fully, placing his hands flat on the bottom of Harry’s torso, twitching as Harry’s abs quiver in an effort to stop himself from thrusting up. 

Louis is so tight and warm and he looks like a vision, thighs thick and golden on either side of his hips and skin glimmering with sweat. His barrette is still in his hair, knocked a bit askew but bright and glinting in the dim light. His bra is off-centered too, sagging a bit when Louis leans forward for purchase as he slowly lifts himself off Harry’s cock and then back down again. 

“Your pussy is so tight, baby,” Harry grunts, keeping his grip slack and lazy so Louis has to do all the work as he continues lifting himself up and down Harry’s cock, already breathing harshly. “Show me what a good girl you are.” 

“I’m the best girl you’ve ever seen,” Louis pants, clenching down this time so Harry’s hips buck up in response. His nails are digging into Harry’s abdomen, cutting shapes that he’ll admire later on. “Best pussy you’ve ever felt.”

“God, yes,” Harry agrees, being completely honest especially when Louis adjusts the angle before continuing. 

He builds up some momentum, head tipped back in bliss and arse bouncing with every movement. His arms are quivering though, stomach heaving from exertion. He switches to slow grinds, pressure hot and incredible around Harry’s cock. 

However, when he sees the first sign of wavering, he immediately plants his feet and tightens his grip on Louis’ hips, hips snapping up as he meets Louis’ thrusts. He just loves being in control, what can he say? 

Louis moans, hands sliding up Harry’s front until they’re gripping his shoulders again. “Fuck me,” he pleads. 

“Want to mess up your pretty panties?” Harry murmurs, palming at the lacy bulge until Louis whines, grinding into his hand mindlessly. “Ruin them?” 

“Won’t ruin them.” Louis cries out when Harry hits his prostate, hips stuttering and body falling forward. 

Harry coos at him. “Maybe we’ll keep them like that. All dirty with your cum so you can remember what a good girl you were for me- _always_ are for me.”

“I,” Louis gasps, eyes fluttering shut as Harry rams up into him, “-bought multiple at the store so s’okay.”

Harry grunts, picturing Louis going lingerie shopping. Admiring the different types and probably feeling the silky ones or holding up the bras to his chest and imagining what he’d look like. Maybe he picked a bunch and tried them all on in the dressing room. Shy, curious looks in the mirror as he poses and admires his own body. _“Fuck.”_

Louis shrieks when he rolls them over, instantly pulling Louis’ thighs over his shoulders and holding him steady as he slams into him. 

The headboard hits the wall roughly, bed creaking as Harry speeds up to an almost animalistic pace. “How many did you get?” he asks. He feels the familiar coiling of his orgasm low in his stomach, folding Louis over even more as he fumbles to connect their lips. 

“Four panties,” Louis admits, almost muffled by Harry’s lips. “You saw the bra. I got a chemise too because it was pretty. It’s light blue-”

“-like your eyes,” Harry finishes, letting go of Louis’ legs for a second so he can frame his face. Then he just, _squeezes._

Louis chokes, cheeks bulging and lips pursed like a fish. 

Harry feels him come a second later, head lolling back as Harry continues the pace from before, reaching his own climax and leaning down to take Louis’ right nipple into his mouth to muffle his groan. 

He sucks lazily at it, mouth stuffed with wet lace as they both recover from their orgasms. 

Louis whimpers pitifully when Harry pulls out, wincing at the feeling of rough lace against his sensitive cock. Harry slides it off for him, shaking his head in awe because fuck, Louis actually wore lingerie for him and it was the hottest thing he’s ever seen in his life. 

The bra goes off too, finally unclipped and discarded on the floor as Harry ducks down to kiss Louis. “You’re everything to me, did you know that?” he murmurs, watching Louis flush automatically. 

“You can’t just say stuff like that,” he complains, but he looks pleased and soft. 

Harry thumbs over his wet cheekbone. He _loves_ how easily Louis cries while being fucked, loves how he looks post-orgasm - all pliant and spent and happy, loves that he did this for Harry (and maybe a bit for himself). “So when are you going to show me the others?”

“Want an exclusive viewing, Mr. Styles?” Louis asks teasingly. 

“Definitely,” Harry says, biting Louis’ earlobe. 

“It’s expensive,” Louis warns. “She’s very high-maintenance.” 

“She’s a bit of a brat too,” Harry drawls, kissing down to his lips and getting distracted by the taste of strawberries yet again before pulling back with a smile, “but she’s entirely worth it.” 

“I’ll tell her you think so,” Louis says, dazed. 

“Tell her I love her too,” Harry says after only a moment’s hesitation. 

Louis stills, mouth dropping open. “What?”

Harry takes his hand and presses a kiss to the back of it, suddenly overwhelmed with the extent of emotion filling his insides. “I love you. I’m hopelessly in love with you, good girl or good boy or major brat. I love you.” 

“I can’t believe you just told me you love me after fucking my brains out,” Louis sniffles, eyes wet and grin wide. “I love you too, asshole.” 

With a sweet declaration like that, Harry is helpless but to seal their lips together again, matching smiles pressed together. 

The rest of the night tastes like strawberries and smells like peaches. Like home. 

-


	4. heaven upon your lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: cock ring, blindfold, overstimulation (nipple play, rimming, vibrator), orgasm denial (like, actual denial), kneeling, subspace

_**October -** _

Harry prides himself on being a good enough dom that he can sense when his sub is stressed out and needs him to take control. It’s a sort of instinct that develops as you learn each other inside and out but it’s also just an innate kind of instinct. 

He wakes up with that feeling today, arms empty of a warm body because Louis babysat his siblings late last night and ended up texting Harry that he was going to stay the night around midnight. 

It’s not necessarily a revelation so much as a build up of signs and hints that reached the breaking point in Harry’s mind. Louis needs him, he knows. But he can already tell it’s going to be a bit  _ more  _ than they’re used to. 

His conviction seems to grow when it becomes clear Louis is acting up again, being loud and obnoxious and bratty to the point that Zayn actually texts him at one in the afternoon to  **_DO SOMETHING_ ** because Harry is the only one who can get Louis to calm down when he gets like this. 

Zayn knows it. Niall and Liam know it. They all know it but Harry’s sure that they really don’t want to know  _ how  _ he does it. 

Right after he finishes his shift, he goes to see Louis at his and Zayn’s because Louis has a study group in an hour and he wants to attempt to talk about it. Of course, Louis doesn’t let it be that easy, denying his words and brushing him off. He tries not to let the snarky comments and dismissive behavior piss him off too much because he  _ knows  _ Louis is busy and stressed and has a lot going on and the last thing he wants to do is make it worse. 

In fact, he wants to take it all away, make Louis feel better. 

It’s why when Louis snaps at him about something, he just slides a hand around the back of his neck and  _ squeezes,  _ murmuring a stern, “Stop.” 

Louis stills automatically, looking at Harry with wide, tired eyes. 

Harry tugs him closer, sliding his other hand around Louis’ hip, fingertips sneaking under his shirt and grazing warm skin. He coos when he sees tears form in Louis’ eyes, all his pent up frustration and stress and feelings bubbling to the surface. 

He needs to let it all out. Or better yet, he needs  _ Harry  _ to pull it out of him. 

“Come straight to mine after your study group,” he says firmly, waiting for Louis’ shaky nod before softening and kissing his forehead. 

“I’m sorry,” says Louis guiltily. 

“Don’t be sorry,” Harry whispers, pulling him closer and holding him tight. “I just want to help you, baby. It doesn’t have to be physical. You can come to mine and study if that’ll help you calm down more, but I promise I’ll give you what you need if you want it.”

“I want it,” Louis whispers. “I need it.” 

“You’ll have it then,” Harry swears. 

-

Louis has hesitance written all over his face when Harry opens the door, shoulders hunched in and body tensed. 

Harry hugs him even though he had been planning to keep up a cold demeanor from the start. He just looks so exhausted and stressed and Harry can’t have that. 

He smiles when Louis nuzzles into his neck, breathing out through his nostrils and making a soft sound like he’s a cat. “How was the study group?”

“Was good,” Louis whispers, breath tickling his throat. “Think I’m ready for the exam, so.”

“That’s good,” Harry murmurs, wrapping him up tighter. “Wanna come to the bedroom with me?”

Louis doesn’t respond verbally, just nods shyly, letting Harry pull away and guide him to his room with a hand on the small of his back. 

“Take off your clothes,” he says briskly, not even bothering to see if Louis listens (he will) before heading to the dresser and opening the drawer he’s kept especially for these activities. He finds what he’s looking for pretty quickly: a simple white vibrator and its remote, a black silk scarf, and a black rubber cock ring. 

He turns around slowly, raking his eyes over Louis’ now naked figure and the way his hands are clasped behind his back and his head is ducked low in submission. When he speaks, he does it slowly and firmly, “Peach, I’m going to tell you right now that you’re not going to come today.”

Louis’ head snaps up at that, surprise flashing across his face followed by acceptance. His lips part, eyes flickering down to Harry’s hands when he holds out the items for display. “Oh,” he says. 

The vibrator has been used a few times but Louis has a few of his own that probably get used way more (Louis has Harry after all) and they’ve tried blindfolding a few times in the past. However, the cock ring has only been used  _ once.  _ Sometime in early August when Louis was being bratty and Harry made him wear it while they were watching a film and proceeded to tease him for two hours and thirty nine minutes before the film ended and Harry finally let him come. 

That was different though. He had only put the ring around his cock then so while the blood flow was decreased and his cum was only able to dribble out in small amounts over a drawn out period of time in which he was in half pain and half pleasure, he still got his orgasm. 

(And Harry ate him out right after so he could come again and soothe the ache, but that’s unimportant). 

This time, Harry ties the blindfold around his eyes securely and then helps him lay down, ordering him to keep his legs spread. Then he settles between Louis’ thighs, still fully dressed like he plans to remain, and carefully grips Louis’ cock in his hand. 

He strokes it lightly, feeling it slowly begin to fatten up as Louis gasps aloud, squirming. 

“Quiet,” he says sternly. As much as he loves hearing every little sound that spills from those pink lips, today isn’t about that. Today is about Louis giving up control and letting go of all the tension that’s been festering in him over the past few days. 

Louis falls silent as expected, body twitching when Harry slowly slides on the ring, stretching it wide before tugging it around his balls as well. The latter will prevent him from coming because Louis is not going to get his orgasm this time. 

He is completely at Harry’s mercy now, sight restricted and cock restrained. Tying him up had also been considered but they’ve never done anything like this and he doesn’t want to overwhelm. He can already see the rigidness in Louis’ limbs and hear the nervous hitch in his breath. He leans in to press a kiss to Louis’ forehead, stroking his arm soothingly. 

“Color?” he asks. 

“Green,” Louis whispers, still sounding nervous but resolute. 

“Remember your word,” Harry reminds him, fingers trailing down his forearms before linking their hands and squeezing reassuringly. “I’ll ask you your color throughout just in case. Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” Louis breathes, a light flush already blooming across his face. 

“Good,” he murmurs, letting go of his hands so he can grip Louis’ thighs and pull them up so his feet are flat against the mattress. He slides down a bit on the bed and lays on his front, putting him at face-level with Louis’ pink hole, smooth and soft as Harry presses his lips to it in greeting. 

He hears Louis’ choked off whimper, like he remembered halfway through that he’s supposed to be quiet and tried to tamp it down. 

“Sometimes I can’t decide if heaven is on your lips,” Harry drawls, before sticking his tongue out and licking a wet stripe up Louis’ perineum and pulling back as Louis jerks, “or right  _ here.” _

Louis’ lips are pursed like he’s holding himself back from making a snarky comment. He’s not allowed to though. Here in the bedroom, he has to endure Harry’s bullshit no matter how  stupid honest it is. 

Harry won’t lie and say it doesn’t please him to no end. He’s smiling when he flattens his tongue and licks another stripe, a more deliberate one this time, tongue lingering over Louis’ rim as it clenches on thin air. 

“Maybe,” Harry starts, dipping his tongue fleetingly just to be a dick before retracting altogether. Louis does whine this time, subdued but distinct. “Maybe, it can’t be heaven though. Don’t think God would approve of what I do to it quite frequently.” He smiles because Louis is most definitely rolling his eyes at him under the blindfold. He can’t help it though- he’s been thinking about it for the past few days, doesn’t know how it came up or why. “So it’s your lips, baby.” 

He presses his own to Louis’ hole at the statement, tongue circling his rim excruciatingly slow before finally dipping in with intention. He licks into him languidly. Lazily. Sucking on his rim every once in a while or scraping his teeth against it just to feel Louis jump. 

Everything has gone hazy by the time the strain in his jaw becomes too poignant to ignore. He presses one last open-mouthed kiss to Louis’ rim before pulling back and reaching for the nightstand and the handy bottle of lube they keep in easy access. 

Normally he likes to take his time but Louis’ cock is angry red, his breaths are sharp and wobbly, and he looks like he’s going to fall apart if he waits any longer. So Harry eases in one then two and three fingers, aiming for efficiency rather than pleasure. 

Then he slicks up the vibrator. It’s smaller than some of the others they’ve used, meant more for edging than actual results which means it’s perfect for today. 

He inches it in slowly, Louis’ thighs quivering around him. “Doing so well, baby,” he murmurs, rubbing circles into his hip bone. 

When it’s all the way in, he grabs the remote and immediately ducks down to suck the leaking head of Louis’ cock into his mouth, sucking brutally right as he hits the ‘on’ button. 

Louis chokes, hips bucking up as much as possible with Harry’s hands holding him down. 

Harry doesn’t go any further than sucking the tip lazily and licking up beads of precum before pulling off completely. He nuzzles into Louis’ stomach, nipping at his bellybutton. 

“ _ Harry,” _ Louis pleads, squirming as Harry increases the speed of the vibrator. 

He’s barely moving it- just pumping it in and out in short increments. While one hand manages that, his other trails up Louis’ torso before flicking his nipples. He alternates between pinching and rolling the buds between the pads of his fingers, making Louis hiss and jolt from pain and pleasure. 

His cock looks like it’s aching, turning purple at the head and straining up in the air. 

“It hurts,” Louis rasps, eyes squeezed shut. “Harry, it hurts.”

“I know, peach,” Harry murmurs, slowly beginning to fuck the vibrator in and out fully. 

Louis jerks when he finds his spot so Harry holds it there, watching Louis cry out and writhe away from the intense pressure at his prostate. 

“Need it, need it,” Louis is babbling, voice cracking as tremors wrack his small body. “Need to come.” 

“You can’t, baby,” Harry reminds him. And then he switches the remote to the highest setting and Louis goes incoherent, letting out little hurt and desperate sounds that sink into Harry’s ears and fester. He can’t see Louis’ eyes but he knows they’re brimming with wetness, mouth gaping open as he pants and a pained flush spreading down his chest. 

“This isn’t about punishing you,” Harry murmurs, thumbing at Louis’ tears gently as he thrashes. “It’s about pushing your limits and making you surrender everything to me. Because that’s what I’m here for. To carry what you can’t, to take away your stress and worries, to give you everything you need. That’s my job, and there’s nothing I’d rather do more.”

He kisses Louis carefully. He wasn’t quite lying when he said heaven rested upon Louis’ lips. It does. It’s where Harry’s heart lies, his love, his peace and his home. It’s familiar and comforting and the best  _ good  _ Harry has found in this crazy world. 

“You’re not going to come,” Harry murmurs, slowly turning off the vibrator, “and it’s going to feel shitty and it’s going to feel amazing because it feels shitty. Okay?”

Louis nods, far past a state coherent enough to respond verbally. 

Harry still asks, “Color? Tap my hand once for red, twice for yellow, and three times for green.”

One. Two. Three taps. 

“I love you,” he whispers, sliding the toy out and dropping it on the mattress carelessly. He carefully unties the blindfold, revealing Louis’ closed eyes and damp lashes, and then scoops Louis up into his arms gently. 

He carries him to the shower before quickly taking off his own clothes and getting in with him. Then he turns the shower on to the coldest setting and grits his teeth as they’re assaulted with the frigid spray. 

Louis screams. Harry holds him through it as he shakes and cries out, enduring the cold in solidarity until Louis’ cock softens enough for him to carefully slide the ring off. His own cock softens too but it was never about his own pleasure today. Today was about Louis. Louis who nearly collapses when Harry turns off the faucet, blubbering and trembling like a leaf. 

Harry wraps them up in towels, trying to warm them both up before he picks Louis back up and carries him back to the bedroom. 

He lays a towel down at the edge of the bed, not wanting to get any water 

Louis gets on his knees and kneels for him, eyes shut and body still shaking as he presses his cheek to Harry’s thigh and folds his hands on his lap. When Harry asks, he says he’s in space, drifting away. 

It’s completely silent as Harry runs his hand through Louis’ hair soothingly, pulling him back to Earth and to him. The sun sets and the room fades from orange to a dim ashy glow as the trembles dwindle and wane steadily and Louis’ breathing evens out. 

A half an hour later, Louis croaks out a soft, “Harry?” and Harry pulls him up and into his lap, whispering soft words and telling him that he’s, “So good. Did so good, little one. Do you feel better?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes, voice raspy and shot through. “Feel so much better.” 

“Good. Good boy,” Harry praises, tucking him close and holding him together as he slowly comes back from subspace. Then he cradles his face and connects their lips, finding heaven once again. 

\- 


	5. like you mean it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: butt plug, multiple orgasms, spanking, bondage, anal fingering, anal sex, rimming
> 
> Thank you to [Hayley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeriestyles/pseuds/faeriestyles) for brainstorming with me for this one!!!

_**December (End of the Semester) -** _

Harry is trying his absolute hardest to think of a way to get out of here. 

Not that he isn’t enjoying the food (phenomenal after a week of ramen three times a day) and the very stimulating conversation about Niall’s hook-up- there’s just other things he’d rather be doing (namely, a  _ boyfriend _ he’d rather be doing). 

They’re at dinner with Niall, Liam, and Zayn, an idea suggested by Niall that Louis took the liberty of accepting despite Harry’s reluctance. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to hang out with his friends- he just really wants to be in bed right now, in bed with Louis warm and pliant after an orgasm in his arms and a thick blanket draped over them. The past week has been hell to say the least, but his midterms are officially over and as far as he’s concerned, it’s Winter Break. He’s done with his exams, done with his grad school applications, done with everything for the next month. 

And now he just wants to celebrate properly. In other words, he wants to take the stress and frustration of the past week out into fucking Louis into the mattress but it’s not like he can just say that to his friends. 

He also just really wants some much needed alone time with his boyfriend, sex or not. His train to go home leaves in a little less than two days when he’ll have to say goodbye to Louis for fifteen days before reuniting for his birthday and to meet his parents. Meeting the family of his boyfriend of six months who a year ago he had hated more than anyone else. 

It’s funny how quickly everything can change. 

Louis, as if sensing Harry’s thoughts have gravitated towards him, leans into his side and rests his head onto Harry’s shoulder. He’s been restless all dinner, dismissing Zayn’s concerned inquiries and trying to hide the flush working its way up his chest by tucking his jacket tighter around himself. 

See, maybe Harry decided a punishment was in order since he’s been dragged along to this dinner against his will. And maybe, that punishment involves a toy that arrived in the mail at the start of the week and which Harry had been holding onto as a reward for himself after finishing his exams. 

Maybe, that toy is a peach shaped butt plug that’s currently nestled between Louis’ arse cheeks and putting pressure on his prostate every time he wriggles or fidgets. 

As in,  _ all the time _ . 

Biting back his smirk, he curls his arm around Louis’ middle and tugs him closer, lips pursing when Louis stiffens, inhaling deeply through the nostrils. 

Louis glares at him, a thin sheen of sweat across his face and neck that highlights the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows thickly. 

Harry just kisses his temple lightly, inhaling the familiar scent of peach shampoo. 

“Hey, you two,” Niall says. They both look over at the other three, all wearing matching expressions of exasperation and amusement. “There’s three other people here who would appreciate your company.” 

“Sorry,” Louis says, voice a lot more breathy than normal, not that anyone except for Harry and his knack for noticing things about Louis would typically catch the difference. 

Harry mumbles an apology too, trying to tune in as Liam starts discussing something about his new job as a trainer at the gym they both go to regularly. He’s pretty stoked about it and Harry’s pretty stoked at the employee’s discount he’ll soon be leeching off of. 

At one point, Zayn asks if anyone wants the rest of his fried mac ‘n’ cheese bites and Louis, who had already had his own helping of them earlier, volunteers. He’s a big fan of mac ‘n’ cheese, Harry knows, unable to count how many times he’s been forced to eat it when staying over at Louis and Zayn’s in the past. 

He gets up and leans across the table to get them since Zayn’s across from them. Harry, emboldened by the knowledge that he and Louis are the only ones on this side of the booth, takes the opportunity to land a firm slap to his arse, directly over his hole and jostling the plug inside. 

Louis chokes, hand faltering as it closes around the dish. Steadying it carefully, his fingers tremble and deep red blooms across his cheeks as he sits back down gingerly. 

Harry is too busy smirking to realize the other three have interpreted Louis’ paled face and shaky exhales as him being sick or hurt.

“Are you okay?” Zayn asks, brows furrowed in concern. 

Louis, unable to speak coherently, nods jerkily. His chest is rising with every breath, eyes pointedly averted from Harry even as he rubs his back soothingly. 

“He’s  _ peachy, _ ” he supplies casually. 

Louis elbows him in the ribs. 

The waiter returns with the dessert menu and Harry almost groans when everyone orders something. He wants to go back to his flat - Or Louis’ - and make him come over and over, first fucking him with the plug and then when he’s all loose and pliant, sliding in and fucking him from behind. 

Maybe he’ll get out the handcuffs even, make him cry for it a bit. 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when the waiter disappears. The others look preoccupied so Harry slides his hand down to the bottom of Louis’ hands, fingers brushing over the swell of his arse. “Color?” he murmurs, keeping his voice dimmed to a whisper. 

“Green,” Louis breathes immediately. 

Harry slides his hand down the back of his jeans and underwear, tips of his fingers skimming down his crack to where the plug lays hidden. He presses down on it firmly, making Louis jump. 

Louis is biting his lip harshly, shiny with gloss and spit. He squirms when Harry presses down again, turning his head and burying his flushed face into Harry’s shoulder. 

He pets Louis’ hair soothingly, sliding his hand out and smoothing it down his back gently. He wants to rile Louis up and make him fall apart, but not yet. 

The conversation continues faithfully and Harry comments on behalf of both of them, Louis still slumped into his side and worked up. He’s quiet and docile, breathing slowly into Harry’s jacket and remaining still. 

Dessert arrives and Harry starts to think that Louis is up to something. 

It starts with a foot brushing his own, a touch that Harry notes with curiosity but ignores in favor of nodding at what Liam says. The foot trails up his calf, feather-light and Harry stills, frowning. He turns to tell Louis to quit it only to falter in place. 

Louis is eating chocolate cake which is lathered with chocolate ganache which he’s currently licking off his fingers, small pink tongue stroking slowly and leisurely down his slim fingers, a picture of innocence plastered all over his face. 

Harry narrows his eyes, lips rolling together stiffly. He averts his eyes and takes another bite of his tiramisu. 

Except, Harry is always unable to keep his eyes away from his boyfriend for too long and they end up flickering back to him just in time to see Louis take another bite of cake, cheeks hollowing and a small, breathy moan of pleasure spilling from his shiny lips. 

He twitches. Choosing not to say anything, Harry reaches out to pinch Louis in the hip: a reprimand. Except Louis has never been good at obeying when it comes to getting what he wants. 

Harry’s spoon clatters to the table and he sucks in a breath when he feels fingers creeping up his thigh, touches fleeting and teasing. 

Louis is still chewing, eyes focused on Niall as his fingertips inch higher and higher. 

“That’s good,” Harry says to Niall’s statement on how he feels pretty good about his last exam. His voice is strained, hand clamping down over Louis’ to still his movements. It’s too late though, his cock has stirred with the promise of Louis’ delicate hands on him and has little hope of calming down. He clears his throat. “I feel pretty good about my exams-” 

His voice breaks off, cracking at the last part thanks to Louis’ other hand coming down directly over his cock, warmth seeping in through both layers of fabric easily when he presses down. His breath hitches. 

Liam, Niall, and Zayn all stare at him in confusion. Harry doesn’t have to glance at Louis to know he’s smirking. 

“Sorry,” he says a beat too late, licking his lips and clearing his throat again awkwardly. 

While Zayn complains about his final art history exam, Harry leans in till his breath fans out across Louis’ cheeks. “You’re going to regret that later, peach,” he murmurs. 

“Will I?” Louis asks slyly. 

Harry doesn’t waste any time in sliding his hand down under his arse, not bothering with being gentle as he yanks Louis closer, eliciting a surprised hiss. “Naughty, naughty,” he whispers. 

Louis responds by palming at his tented bulge deliberately, keeping his eyes locked on Harry’s steadily. 

_ Fuck it, _ Harry thinks. 

He clears his throat again, loudly. When three faces look over at them, they see a smirking Louis sitting in Harry’s lap. Harry’s face is unreadable. “Guys, Louis needs to study for his last exam tomorrow morning,” he lies. 

Well, it’s not completely a lie. Louis  _ does  _ have his final exam slot scheduled for tomorrow morning except his professor had decided they weren’t doing a final exam since they finished their semester big project presentations last week and it fit the necessary criteria. There’s a good chance all of them know that already, but he’s far past the point of caring. 

“Dinner was nice,” Harry continues, tightening his grip on Louis’ twitching hand to prevent another disaster. “But we really have to go. Right, Lou?”

“Yeah,” Louis grins, a wicked curve of his lips. “Need to ace my  _ anatomy _ exam.”

The others groan and Harry shoots Louis a sharp look.  _ Naughty,  _ he mouths slowly, brows drawing together. 

Louis pecks him on the lips and carefully slides off his lap, biting his lip to keep from wincing at the pressure. He pushes himself out of the booth and Harry follows right behind him, ignoring their friends’ teasing comments and jeers in favor of crowding close to Louis’ back as they weave their way to the entrance of the restaurant. 

“Such a brat,” Harry grunts, curling his arms around Louis’ waist and slowing his hurried pace. “I have half a mind to spank you for that.” 

“Then do it,” says Louis eagerly. 

“No,” Harry whispers, ducking down to suck on the skin below Louis’ ear and feel him shiver. “ ‘V got other plans for you, baby.” 

Louis shudders, turning around and sticking his hand boldly into Harry’s front pocket, looking up at him with hazy eyes. He pulls out Harry’s car keys and drops them into his waiting hand but not before skimming his fingers over his crotch once again. 

Harry grabs his wrist firmly and starts walking. 

“Anatomy, eh?” he says conversationally, pushing through the door and into the cold air of night. He spins them around and raises Louis’ hand to press a wet kiss to the back of his hand, the gentle action a sharp contrast from how the rest of the night is going to play out in Harry’s mind. “Let’s see if I can help you study.” 

-

“Strip,” Harry orders as soon as they step into the empty flat. 

“No bedroom?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. 

Harry’s jaw tics. “Did I say you can ask questions?” 

Louis shakes his head, falling silent as he works on shoving his coat off and then his shoes, shirt, and pants. He hisses when the material slides over the plug, face contorting into one of desperation. 

Harry doesn’t see it though, striding to his bedroom and yanking open their special drawer. He rummages through his careless attempt at organizing the toys until he finds a pair of handcuffs- black and with a padded lining to protect Louis’ wrists. He also grabs a towel, an old one that’s gotten rough with use. He slings it over his shoulder and heads back out. 

When he gets back to the living room, Louis is standing completely naked with his hands clasped behind him and his head ducked, his small pink cock hanging between his legs and leaking a bit at the tip. 

He pauses for a moment, raking his eyes over the curve of Louis’ hips, the dip of his waist, his pink little nipples, and the barely perceptible quiver of his thighs. 

“Turn around,” he says briskly, grabbing Louis’ hands and holding them steady as he locks the cuffs around his wrists behind his back, making sure it’s not too tight. “Good?” he asks, just in case. They’ve used the cuffs before and Harry knows it’s the right amount of constraining but he still wants Louis’ verbal confirmation before he gets too overwhelmed. 

“Good,” Louis breathes, lips parting as Harry spins him around, cradles his face, and kisses him firmly. 

He pulls back after a second, gripping Louis by the hips before walking them back and back until they’re out of the living room and the backs of Louis’ thighs hit the edge of the kitchen table. 

Louis sucks in a breath when he realizes. “Here?” he squeaks, eyes wide. 

“Course, sweetheart,” Harry says, dropping the key to the cuffs on the table with an echoing thud. “Didn’t get to finish my dessert at the restaurant, now did I?” He fixes Louis with an expectant look to let him know he’s supposed to respond.

“No,” Louis breathes, a light flush already blooming across his face. “You didn’t.” 

“So I’m going to finish it now,” Harry murmurs, clearing away place mats so there’s enough space as when he grabs the towel and spreads it on the surface. It’s mostly there to prevent cum from getting on the wood and Zayn from castrating them but the rough texture is going to feel extremely frustrating against Louis’ sensitive cock and Harry is looking forward to that. He also shrugs off his jacket, dubbing it soft enough as he sets it on the table too. “Bend over,” he directs. 

Louis obliges, restrained hands resting just over the curve of his arse. He rests his face on Harry’s jacket, turning it to the side and closing his eyes. 

Harry takes a minute to admire the pretty picture it makes. Louis bent over and already trembling a bit from anticipation, flushed and breathing harshly. The peach plug quivers with every deep breath Louis takes, pink and shiny rim fluttering around it. 

He looks stunning, is the verdict. He always does, always the sweetest and most ethereal creature in the room. The brightest star in the sky, pulling everyone else into his orbit with a flutter of his lashes and a cheeky grin. He’s magnificent and he’s all Harry’s. Just remembering- just reminding himself that Louis exists and is  _ his, _ makes his throat go dry. 

He pushes it away for now. 

“Was thinking earlier today that two orgasms sounded nice tonight,” he says mildly, reaching out and dragging one finger down Louis’ spine and feeling the tremors wrack his body in its wake. “But I think it’ll be fun to see just how many times I can make you come. A little reward for me after such a long,  _ hard _ week.” 

Louis whimpers, squirming slightly. 

Harry stills him with a hand on the small of his back, pressing him into the table inescapably. “Be good,” he says. 

“Am,” Louis mumbles into the jacket, eyes still shut. “Best sub you’ve ever had.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees, because he can’t not. He lifts his hand and lands a firm slap on Louis’ right arse cheek, fingertips just brushing the edge of the plug. Louis’ choked gasp is all too satisfying. “Still a brat,” he drawls smugly. 

He circles a finger around the peach outline, ignoring Louis’ attempts of pushing into the touch. When he does grip it, it’s in sync with him landing two slaps in a row to his left cheek. Louis whimpers, red blooming on his arse. Harry didn’t take off his rings either so there’s little indents from the metal. 

Louis jerks, hands twitching and wrists straining against their bonds. 

“Here we go,” Harry murmurs, slowly pulling the plug out before pushing it in again twice as fast. Louis’ entire body tenses before relaxing with a shudder. 

Harry continues his movements, fucking the plug in and out, sometimes wiggling it around just for fun. His eyes are glued to Louis’ body, tracking every tremble, breath, and muted whimper. He catalogues the way Louis’ lips part and he bites down on Harry’s jacket, a strangled whine working its way out of his throat. 

His hips are rocking forward steadily, grinding into the towel in a desperate attempt to chase relief. His movements are sloppy and only get messier as he reaches his peak. 

After hours of being teased, Harry knew it wouldn’t take too long but Louis’ orgasm still takes him by surprise, ripping through him with a choked cry as he goes rigid before slumping. 

“Number one,” Harry says, gently taking the plug out and cooing at Louis when he makes a sound of discontent at the loss. He rubs a hand up and down his back soothingly, leaning over his slack body to kiss the nape of his neck. Louis is still moving, gasping and wriggling in his restraints like the squirmy little sub he is. “Easy, peach.”

Louis hums, turning his head even more to the side so Harry can see the wetness on his cheeks and the way his lashes are clumped together with unshed tears. 

He thumbs at his cheekbones, wiping away most of them while his other hand gropes around Louis’ arse, fingers sliding between his crack and rubbing over his hole. 

Thanks to his careful prep earlier, Louis is still loose and open enough for two of his fingers to meet little resistance as he inches them in. The drag is still on the right side of too rough but that’s what Harry wants. 

“Give me another, baby,” Harry whispers, slowly pumping them in and out while mouthing his way down Louis’ spine. “I know you want to. You want to be good for me, don’t you?” 

“Harry,” Louis rasps, a plea in his voice. He gasps when Harry scissors his fingers just right, finding his spot in record time. 

“C’mon, darling,” Harry coaxes, sliding a third finger in. “Be a good boy.” 

He’s back into grinding into the towel, hips quivering as he chases the friction while moans and whines spill from his lips like honey. 

Sucking another bruise at the small of Louis’ back, he takes his free hand and spanks him a few more times, quick and easy. A sure way to increase stimulation.

Louis cries out, hips stuttering as Harry speeds up, jabbing straight to his prostate with every other movement. 

This time Louis comes with a strangled whimper, body sagging and head lolling to the side. 

“Good boy,” Harry whispers, stilling his fingers but still keeping them in as Louis’ hole clenches feebly around them. He waits a little bit for Louis to calm down, harsh and erratic breathing slowly coming down to normal. 

Then, he carefully grips Louis by the hips, pulling him back so only his chest and upwards is resting on the table and his softening cock is hanging freely in the air. A third orgasm is going to take some more effort on Harry’s part but he’s always up to the challenge. 

He starts by shoving his jeans and briefs down, his aching cock throbbing painfully as he jerks it off quickly, trying to alleviate some tension. He shrugs off his shirt too, savoring the feel of bare skin against bare skin as he drapes himself over Louis’ back again. 

“Color?” he checks. If Louis doesn’t think he can do a third today, Harry would never force him, especially since with the end of the semester and everything, Louis hasn’t come more than once or twice when having sex in a good few weeks. 

“Green,” Louis rasps, voice shot through. 

Harry doesn’t respond, trailing a finger down his spine before spreading Louis’ pinked cheeks and immediately diving in with his tongue. 

Louis shrieks, thighs clamping down firmly on either side of Harry’s face, just the way he likes. Of all the ways to go in the world, Harry would easily pick ‘smothered by boyfriend’s thighs’ as his number one choice. 

He starts off messy, getting Louis wet and shiny with spit before circling his rim and dipping all the way in. He’s learned a lot about Louis over the past six to seven months, and one thing he’s learned very well is that nothing gets Louis worked up and hard quite like a tongue in his arse. 

Licking deliberately and thoroughly, he slowly tightens his grip on Louis’ hips, knowing that since he’s got less purchase on the table in this new position that he could fall forward easily. 

“Harry, please,” Louis stutters. “Please, please-”

Another thing Harry’s learned is how to guess what Louis’ asking for when he goes incoherent and desperate, not that this particular circumstance is pretty difficult to interpret. 

“Got you,” Harry mumbles, pulling back to flatten his tongue against Louis’ rim and lick a stripe up his perineum. He slides one hand around to Louis’ front and grips his rapidly hardening cock, squeezing slightly to coax it on. 

Louis whines, conflicted on whether to push forward into Harry’s hand or back into his tongue, both equally insistent. The result is him squirming. 

Harry holds him steady though, fingers curled around his hip firmly as he licks into his hole in tune with the twists of his hand. Louis is rendered completely incomprehensible, whimpering and keening and panting helplessly as he stumbles into a third orgasm. 

“Give me three, baby,” Harry urges, pulling him off faster. The drag is rough, borderline painful against his two-orgasm-sensitive cock, but Louis has always liked it to hurt sometimes. He thumbs over his head, biting down on his rim right as Louis goes rigid, gasping out as he comes. 

Anticipating Louis’ discomfort, he quickly grabs the key and unlocks his cuffs, letting him fall forward with an exhausted whimper. Harry rakes his hands up and down his sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise that include many  _ Good boy’ _ s and,  _ I love you’ _ s.

“What about you?” Louis slurs when he’s able, back rising and falling with every labored breath. 

“Gonna come on your arse,” Harry whispers, hand drifting down to his abandoned cock which throbs at the statement. “Been waiting all week.”

Louis huffs, lips curving into an amused smile. He wriggles his bum, probably as a joke but Harry’s mouth goes dry. Louis’ arse is just…  _ stunning _ , especially with lingering pink handprints and imprints of his thumbs branded across them. “Go for it, Styles,” Louis whispers, exhaustion coating his voice. 

Harry decides to be quick, knowing Louis needs a glass of cold water and cuddles and a nice warm bed very very soon. He holds Louis steady with one hand, spreading his cheeks apart so he can see his shiny pink hole. 

After the evening he had and a week of being unsatisfied with handjobs and the occasional quick fuck in between studying, it doesn’t take him very long to reach his climax, coming with a groan all over Louis’ arse. 

Some cum dribbles into Louis’ hole and Harry doesn’t waste a minute before he’s shoving more of it in. 

Louis hisses, batting his hand away much to his disappointment. 

He turns to face Harry with a pout, cheeks rosy and still wet with tears. “Carry me,” he mumbles, before slumping forward into Harry’s chest and going completely slack. 

It’s by no means a new experience so Harry is ready to scoop him up, nosing into Louis’ sweaty hair and letting the scent of peaches seep into his senses and light the flame of contentment in his mind. 

“Love you,” Louis whispers, lips tickling Harry’s throat. 

“Love you,” Harry replies, kissing Louis’ temple as he lays him down on the bed. “I’ll get you a rag.”

He goes to step back before a small hand gripping his forearm pulls him back. 

“No,” Louis insists, using his free hand to grab the sheet and use it to wipe himself down. 

Harry just rolls his eyes. “Seriously?”

“You love me,” Louis reminds him, smiling sweetly. He tugs Harry down onto the bed and he goes willingly, unable to repress his own grin. 

“Unfortunately,” Harry sighs sadly, closing his eyes and curling around Louis the way he wants him to. He pulls him close, waiting a beat before asking with a smirk, “I’d give you a solid A on that exam, baby.”

The only reason he doesn’t get slapped in the dick or elbowed in the solar plexus is because Louis is already falling asleep, nuzzling into the pillow and sighing softly. He does get the finger though. He’ll call it a victory. 

-


	6. it ain't easy (being the jealous kind)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: cockwarming, degradation (including uses of slut/cockslut/whore + more), possessive sex, anal sex, riding, hair pulling

**_January -_ **

Over the past eight months together, Louis has slowly become more and more comfortable with Harry talking about him on his blog. It’s still all anonymous, of course. On clicktosubmit, Harry’s followers know he has a sub who he refers to as ‘peach’ and they’ve seen faceless black and white pictures with glimpses of delicate features and soft hair and smooth skin but nothing more. Harry prefers it that way. 

However, what he does show already has had some unexpectedly frustrating results.

In other words, Harry receives an occasional explicit ask detailing what this person would do to Louis - _Harry’s_ Louis - if they had the chance. 

And it’s-

It’s not like he feels threatened. These faceless weirdos who ignore his own requests to not talk about his sub like that and continue to send nasty shit into his inbox are clearly never going to get their grimy hands on _his_ boyfriend. They’re clearly just jealous - which Harry can hardly fault them for considering it’s _Louis_ \- and they’re lonely assholes who can’t find their own subs to fantasize about and take care of so they thirst after Harry’s sub and okay, yeah, maybe he’s a little bitter. 

For the most part, he just grits his teeth, deletes the ask, and writes a passive aggressive dom files post about how good it feels to have a boyfriend who’s _his_ to take care of, _his_ to wreck, and _his_ to love. 

However, today has been pretty shitty. He overslept that morning and was late to his first class and then everything that followed just added to the sludge of frustration and discontent he’s been drowning in all day. Losing one of his favorite rings on the Tube and not finding it after twenty minutes of searching and annoyed looks from other passengers, having to wait long periods of time at the gym to use equipment because it’s still the first few weeks of the New Year when everyone’s still determined to get fit and work out regularly, endless reading and Psych homework to finish because his professors are not the type to ease students back into assignments for the start of a new semester. And oh, right, a dentist appointment which means he’s poked and prodded at and forced to blink through glaring white lights. 

He’s in a terrible mood by the time he slunks back to the flat again, frowning when he sees a text message from Niall saying they’re ordering takeout for dinner but it’s from Liam’s favorite place to order out from which is also unfortunately, Harry’s _least_ favorite place to order out from.

And because he feels so moody, he flops onto his bed and sulks for a bit. Then he calls Louis and begs him to come over because he hasn’t seen him all day and that’s yet another shitty detail. 

While he waits, he scrolls through Tumblr and checks his queue to make sure the next week of posts is all set up. Then he goes through his inbox and that’s when he sees it. 

His grip tightens on his phone as he reads it, dimly aware that he should probably stop but physically unable to stop his eyes from skimming through the entire fucking _paragraph_ that some asshole left for him. It’s the longest one he’s ever gotten, straying to _two_ full asks. It’s a response to a photo he posted last week- a black and white picture that shows the back of Louis’ head and the exposed upper half of his back as he lays in bed. It’s not explicit or anything, but it’s apparently enough to result in _this._

That’s it, he thinks, veins dripping with anger and red hot possessiveness. He’s never posting anything about Louis on his blog ever again. Not when it gives these cowards the idea that they’re entitled to thirst after him so blatantly like this. 

He deletes them quickly, jaw tensed and ugly jealousy clawing up his throat, aching to spill out in screams of frustration. Indignation and bitterness burns through his insides, coiling into a scorching ball of fury at the base of his abdomen.

_Calm down,_ he tells himself. But he can’t- he _can’t._

Louis finds him that way in his room, sitting stiffly against the headboard and staring unfocused at the ceiling above him, fists clenched and lips in a straight line.

“H?” Louis calls out tentatively. 

Harry’s eyes glide over to him slowly, taking in the open look of concern on his face and how pretty he looks in an oversized blue sweater tucked into belted mom jeans. He’s wearing one of Harry’s jackets and it’s sliding off at the shoulder, hair soft and damp. “Hey,” he says, voice gruffer than he intends. 

“Are you okay?” Louis asks, stepping in and closing the door behind him quietly. 

Shoulders hunched, he shrugs. “Bad day,” he mumbles, memories of the asks flashing through his mind in stark black and white. 

Louis shuffles closer, hesitating for a second until he sees the wetness in Harry’s eyes and immediately kicks his shoes off and crawls onto the bed. 

Harry sighs in relief when Louis curls into his side, nuzzling into his neck and wrapping his arms around Harry’s middle comfortingly. 

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks. 

“I- I dunno,” Harry says, grunting in annoyance because he feels angry and frustrated and like he wants to hunt down the bastard and erase all those fantasies and desires from his mind, wants to hunt down every bastard who’s ever thought about Louis like that and teach them a lesson. 

It’s stupid, he knows. It’s stupid how possessive and broody he gets, especially because he _knows_ Louis is his, wants to be his, and won’t ever be or want to be anything but his if he has anything to say about it. And Harry is Louis’ in return. They belong to each other and they belong together, he knows that. 

But it doesn’t stop the ugly feelings from festering, the urges to make sure everyone knows that they can’t have his boyfriend, can’t even think about it. 

Louis kisses his jaw, curling into him even more. “You’re okay,” he’s whispering. “You’re okay and everything’s going to be okay.” He reaches up and kisses Harry’s cheek gently, murmuring a soft, “I love you,” into his ear. 

Suddenly Harry wants to weep because Louis is so lovely and sweet and Harry's so lucky but he still feels this raw urge to make everyone know. “I love you too, kitten,” he whispers, burying his face in Louis’ sweet smelling hair. 

Peaches fill his senses and the ache grows. “You’re mine,” he murmurs, pressing the words to Louis’ throat because he feels so embarrassed and ashamed. They’re not having sex and Harry’s close to tears- it’s not the usual situation where he says something like that. 

“I’m yours,” Louis agrees and then delicate, soft fingers are pressing into Harry’s jaw, tilting his face down so Louis can kiss him tenderly. He pulls back after a moment, studying Harry’s strained and unhappy expression before biting his lip. “Let me make you feel good,” he says. 

Harry shakes his head. “No, I-” He trails off, unable to articulate how he’s not sure if he’ll be able to get fully hard when he’s so upset. 

“Let me sit on your cock,” Louis whispers. 

Cock twitching, Harry’s mouth falls open. So maybe he can get hard. 

“I’ll take care of it,” Louis says, hand already slipping into his sweats and briefs and pulling out his cock. As always, it only takes a few minutes for his dick to stir with Louis’ slim fingers touching him so carefully. “M’open already,” Louis tells him, struggling to unbutton his jeans and undo the belt. 

Harry helps him get them off, brows furrowing. “Why?” 

“Fingered myself in the shower,” Louis answers, continuing to jerk him off as he shoves his underwear down. “You sounded so tired on the phone so I wanted to come over and keep you warm for a bit.” 

Simultaneously aroused and struck dumb, Harry opens his mouth to say something but falls silent when Louis climbs into his lap and lines up. His hands go to Louis’ hips automatically, steadying him as he eases himself down onto his cock slowly. 

He mewls when Harry bottoms out, fingers curling into Harry’s shoulders. And then he just leans forward and noses into Harry’s neck. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he says. 

“Jesus,” Harry breathes, too distracted by the feeling of tight warmth around his cock to focus properly. “Baby, you can’t just-”

“I am,” Louis interrupts, “and I’m going to keep sitting here and being a good boy while you tell me what’s wrong.” He pauses, familiar shyness shining through as he adds, “ If you want, of course.” 

Harry groans when Louis shifts slightly, probably unconsciously because he can’t stop moving to save his life. He’s not fully hard yet, but getting closer now that he’s got an eager little sub keeping him warm. “ _Fuck,_ it’s just-” He shakes his head. 

“Take your time,” Louis says, winding his arms around his neck and slumping forward into his chest like he’s hugging him. He _is_ hugging him, whispering soft words of encouragement and trying to make Harry feel better while he’s sitting on his dick looking like an angel. 

And Harry once again wonders how he became so lucky. 

For a while they’re just silent. Harry doesn’t know how much time passes but he slowly begins to calm down, breaths evening out and peace finding him. It may seem strange that having Louis sit on his cock like this calms him down but it does. The pissed off haze that’s been darkening his mind finally fades away so he’s able to focus clearly on the heavenly feeling of Louis around him- the hitch in his inhale when he shifts on accident and jostles Harry’s cock inside him, the flutter of his lashes as he blinks languidly, the wetness of his lips when he licks them. 

He lets all of those little details ground him, the tightness in his chest easing enough for him to finally slump, shoulders no longer hunched and teeth no longer grit. 

“Love you,” Louis mumbles, kissing his cheek again. 

“Love you,” Harry echoes, kissing his head softly. Louis is really an angel, he thinks, definitely not the first time and surely not the last. 

“Wanna tell me what’s got you so riled up?” Louis murmurs, gently messing with Harry’s hair with a cute focused frown on his pretty lips. 

Harry sighs. “It’s… Well, okay, today has just been a shitty day. Bad luck or something, I guess.” He continues to explain, venting and complaining and probably exaggerating but Harry thinks it’s justified considering how much he’s needed to let it all out. 

Louis listens carefully, scratching Harry’s scalp lightly and making sympathetic interjections when needed. It makes Harry’s heart feel warm. He may be the one taking care of Louis in the bedroom, but Louis takes care of him in so many other ways. He listens, he _cares,_ and he’s always there for Harry whether he’s stressed or tired or grouchy or panicked or any other difficult state he’s witnessed over the past eight months together and has never once turned away from. God, Harry’s so lucky. 

Unfortunately, he does eventually reach the worst part of today. A flicker of anger returns as he remembers, grimace curling onto his lips. “I was looking at asks,” he begins, scowling. “And there was this one - these _couple_ actually, that were, um, about you.” 

“About me?” Louis asks, brows furrowing. “What about me?”

Harry’s scowl grows and the familiar ugly possessiveness curls into his throat. “Just.” He breaks off, frustrated. 

Louis nuzzles into his shoulder. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“People being horrible,” Harry says flatly. “People saying horrible things about what they’d do to you and ignoring that they can’t do or think anything like that because you’re mine and they have no right. They can’t- They can’t talk about you like that. They can’t _want_ you like that.” He closes his eyes, shame filling his throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t-”

“No,” Louis interrupts. A moment later, a gentle thumb traces under Harry’s eyes. “Harry, it’s okay. I get it.” 

“You do?” Harry asks, eyes opening in disbelief. 

“I don’t- I don’t really want to know what they said- I already know it’ll make me uncomfortable-” Harry tightens his hold around him at that. “-and I know I’d feel weird if someone told me their sexual fantasies involving you to my face,” he says, blushing. “Actually, I’d feel pretty shitty. Pretty _angry.”_

“I am angry,” he admits, fingers curling into fists like an instant reaction. “God, Lou, I want to punch whoever it is. Want to make sure they never think about you ever again. But I-” 

“Can’t,” Louis finishes sadly. “You can’t.” 

Harry wraps his arms around Louis’ waist and tugs him closer, both of them hissing at the pressure it evokes. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable. I can delete the pictures and stop talking about you.”

“You don’t have to,” Louis says immediately. He pulls Harry’s head down so he can rest his forehead against his. “Seriously. I told you you could because I wanted to and I still want to. I don’t- I don’t like that there are people like that who are going to say stuff like that but I also don’t want it to stop you.” He pauses to look at Harry imploringly. “Do _you_ want to stop?” 

“I…” Harry bites his lip. “Not altogether because then they win. But maybe no more pictures showing your naked body, even if it’s mostly covered.” 

“Okay,” says Louis immediately, smiling softly. 

“Okay,” Harry echoes, feeling a weight lift off his stomach. He presses another kiss to the top of his head. “Thank you.” 

Instead of responding, Louis clenches down on his cock and he hisses. “Thank me another way,” he says slyly. 

Harry grins, and he doesn’t know who it surprises more. Of course all it takes is Louis to bring a smile to his face. He slides his hands to Louis’ hips, holding him tightly as he carefully lifts him up and then down again. 

Louis sucks in a breath, mewling when Harry bucks his hips and fucks into him, finding a steady pace. His fingers dig into the fabric of Harry’s shirt, nails biting at his skin as he lifts him up and down. 

“Mine,” Harry grunts, ramming up into him and leaning forward to suck a bruise into Louis’ neck. 

“Yours,” Louis gasps, head tipping back for easier access as Harry bites at the hollow of his throat. _“Fuck,_ I love being yours. Love being your sub, your cocksleeve. Love serving you.” 

Harry groans, hips snapping harder as he shoves in deeper and deeper. “Love taking care of you. You’re such a good sub for me, baby- such a good boy. Such a good _cockslut._ ” He reaches up and curls a hand into Louis’ hair, yanking his head back to mouth at his pulse. “Say it.” 

Louis whines, grinding into his cock messily. “M’a good cockslut,” he pants. “Your little whore.” 

“My little whore,” Harry agrees, pulling his hair again and watching the way Louis’ entire body shudders, collarbone glistening with sweat and lips bitten red and slick with spit. The ask had mentioned something about hair pulling and it ignites something almost carnal in him as he does the same. It’s not gentle. _“Mine._ All mine,” he murmurs. 

He drops his other hand to Louis’ arse, squeezing at his cheeks and pulling them apart roughly. He feels around to where they’re connected, pausing his thrusts so he can feel more effectively. Carefully, he slides a finger in right next to his cock, enveloping it in Louis’ heat.

Louis squirms at the invasion, still grinding down desperately. 

Harry lets him do the work for a bit, watching Louis bounce on his cock and finger, thighs jiggling and quivering as he gasps out and whimpers, head tipped back. “Perfect. You’re perfect,” he murmurs, using the hand on the back of his head to pull him forward and into a kiss. He takes his finger out from Louis’ hole reluctantly, making a note to test that out more thoroughly in the future.

The previous pace is reestablished but a bit faster, the sound of skin slapping skin and breathy moans and groans obscene in the quiet room. Harry continues pulling Louis’ air, cataloguing the way Louis goes so easily wherever Harry yanks him. So pliant and obedient. 

“You’d do anything I say,” Harry grunts, ramming up into him. “Because you’re a slut for me. A slut for my cock. S’all you want, all you think about. My cock stretching you open, making you feel good. You’re gagging for it all the time.” 

Louis shudders. “Love your cock,” he slurs, dazed. “Makes me feel so good.” 

“The only cock that can make you feel this good,” Harry growls, biting down on Louis’ shoulder and soothing the sting with his tongue. He fucks him aggressively. “This hole is mine.” 

“Yes,” Louis breathes, clenching around him. “Yes, yes, yes-”

Harry leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth, rolling it between his teeth right as Louis jerks, going rigid and letting out a strangled moan as his release splatters up between them. 

He stills his own movements for a second, giving time for Louis to stop shaking and tell him to, “Keep going,” before he places a hand flat on his back and rolls them over. 

Louis’ sweater is stained with cum is the first thing he realizes. It’s going to be a bitch to get out - they both know from personal experience - but it is their fault for not stopping to strip before fucking. He’s still got his own shirt on, sweats pushed down to his calves as he settles between Louis’ legs. 

“Fill me up,” Louis urges, legs locking around his middle and pressing into his back in a plea. 

“I will, peach,” Harry promises, but he reaches for the nightstand but not for the top drawer where he keeps lube and other sex-related things. No, he opens the second drawer where a variety of random items lay including one black sharpie. 

He uncaps it, cradling Louis’ face in one hand before meeting his eyes in a question. 

Louis’ mouth is wide open, eyes wet but focused completely on the felt marker. 

“Color?” Harry asks, voice gritty. His cock is painfully hard inside Louis, itching to fuck in again and chase his own impending orgasm, but the ache for what he wants to do right now is even greater. 

“Green,” Louis says right away, eyes fluttering shut. “Do it.” 

Harry does. He uses a thumb to pull the skin of Louis’ cheek taut before carefully writing a big block-letter ‘H’ under the corner of his eye. He follows it with an ‘A’ and ‘R’ before switching to the left cheek where he writes an ‘R’, ‘Y’, and ‘S.’ 

When he’s finished he caps the sharpie and drops it unceremoniously off the side of the bed, framing Louis’ face and admiring his artwork with heavy eyes. ‘HARRY’S’ is branded across his cheekbones in big black letters, satisfying the ugly rearing demon inside him that wants everyone to know Louis is his. 

“I’m yours,” Louis says again, words solidifying and crystalizing in the air between them to become the truth. It’s written in ink now, yes, but it’s also written in his heart and that’s even more satisfying. 

Louis opens his eyes, bright hazy blue blinking up at him lazily. “Fuck me,” he says. 

Harry does. 

It doesn’t take him long to come, eyes wide open and fixed on Louis’ face as he grips Louis’ thighs and rams into him over and over, sped up to an animalistic pace. 

He shoves in as deep as he can, groaning when Louis clenches down on him. He comes and it feels endless, face buried in Louis’ neck and fingers embedded in his skin where they belong. 

“That was nice,” Louis slurs, sounding spent and sated as Harry carefully pulls out of him, both of them wincing at the oversensitivity. 

Harry closes his eyes, overwhelmed with feeling and love for his boyfriend, the maybe (definitely) love of his life. “Thank you,” he says again, pouring as much conviction and inflection into it as possible so Louis can understand how much what just happened means to him. “You’re my favorite person.” 

Louis just blushes. “Shut up,” he says, shy. 

“No, can’t. You’re the best. The best, the prettiest, my favorite. An angel,” he says nonsensically, leaning in and kissing all over Louis’ face. “My angel, my only angel.” Because he _is._ He’s an angel when he comes, when he smiles, when he laughs. He’s an angel when he tells Harry he loves him and when he blushes and giggles when Harry says it back over and over and over, unable to say it enough times. 

An angel. He’s in love with an angel. 

-

Louis is also an angel when he lets Harry take a cropped picture of his branded face to post on Tumblr as a reminder to any lurking bastards, but that’s less important. 

(Harry is really so lucky.)

-


	7. make you mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: breeding/pregnancy kink, anal sex, anal fingering, minor breathplay, dirty talk, butt plug

_**March -** _

It starts when Harry gets a text from Louis in the middle of his shift. He didn’t look at it right away, too busy manning the register while Sarah fended off a bossy lady who was complaining about her drink order being wrong (it wasn’t- Harry made it himself) and doing his best to refrain from snapping and telling the lady to “fuck off.” 

(He does not refrain; Sarah is more relieved than mad about it). 

In fact, he doesn’t get to check it until he’s shrugging off his apron and grabbing his keys, ready to go back to his flat and finish up a post scheduled for later tonight on clicktosubmit. 

The first thing he feels when he reads the message and sees the logo to his own blog, is confusion. Frowning, he gets into his car and shuts the door, pressing the link. His confusion morphs into surprise when he sees it’s an ask he received over a year ago.

**Thoughts on pregnancy/breeding kinks?**

A curling feeling of anticipation settles in his stomach as he rereads his answer, a long ramble about how  _ of course  _ he’s into the idea of impregnating his partner- how he’s wanted kids ever since he was eleven and how he’s into it for both female and male partners. 

When he’s mulled over the implications of Louis sending him this at six o’clock in the evening, he goes back to the messages app and types out:  **Where are you?**

He uses the proper capitalization, spelling, and punctuation for his question, wanting Louis to notice the formality and tone change from their usual conversations. 

**_Library._ ** is the reply. 

Harry exhales harshly, ideas and wisps of growing arousal whirling through his mind. So much for that blog post, he thinks, sending a final  **Stay where you are.** before shoving his phone in his pocket and putting the key in ignition. 

If he’s a bit less careful driving than he normally is, it’s between him and the universe (and potentially the cameras at the intersection, but Harry really hopes not). 

Louis is sitting alone at a table, head ducked and busy scribbling notes when Harry strides up to him. He looks up when Harry curls a hand around the back of his neck in greeting, tilting his head up and his blue eyes framed with glasses silently asking a kiss which Harry complies, ignoring how much he has to bend to do it. 

“Got something to ask me, peach?” Harry murmurs, brushing away a stray eyelash from Louis’ cheek as he sits down in the empty seat beside him. 

He tracks the movement as Louis bites his bottom lip, picture of innocence. “Hm?” he says, foot knocking into Harry’s. 

Harry raises an eyebrow- so this is how it’s going to be. “That thing you sent to me thirty minutes ago.” He leans in closer, lips brushing the shell of Louis’ ears. “From last summer. That how needy you’ve been for me? Scrolling so far down, watching all the videos and reading all the asks… Getting all hot and bothered when you’re supposed to be doing your homework?” 

Louis fidgets, familiar blush spreading across his face. 

Grinning slowly, Harry tightens his grip on the back of his neck and turns it for better access to his neck. “Wanna do it tonight?”

When he doesn’t get an answer, he nips at Louis’ throat. “I asked you a question, baby.” 

“We’re in public,” Louis hisses, flushing even brighter. 

Harry scoffs. “Like that changes anything,” he says, amused. “Don’t make me ask again or we won’t do it at all.”

Louis sucks in a breath, looking upset at the thought. “Yeah,” he relents. “Tonight.” And then he glances down and lays a small hand over his stomach and-

Just. Keeps it there. All casual and curious. 

Harry’s heart thunders in his ears at the sight. He clears his throat. “So… are you done here?” 

“Yeah,” Louis says, looking slightly dazed. 

“Great,” says Harry, standing up. He helps Louis pack up, placing a firm hand on the small of his back to steady him as they wave goodbye to the librarian and head out to his car. “Yours or mine?” Harry asks, opening the door for him. 

“Yours,” Louis says instantly and Harry bites back a smile. Louis’ told him in the past that he loves Harry’s bed because it smells like him and Harry’s always loved having him in his bed and his space, able to jerk off the next day with memories of what transpired in those sheets and how Louis looked against them. 

He drives back to his flat with Louis’ fingers clutched in his own over the center console, glancing at him during stop lights and tracking every swallow, lick of his lips, and flutter of his lashes. 

Thankfully, it’s not a long trip. He guides Louis upstairs and slides an arm around his waist as he unlocks the door. He knows for a fact that Liam’s at the gym and Niall’s with friends and neither of them will be here for the next few hours. Not that it’d make a difference. 

As soon as they get inside, Harry turns and scoops Louis into his arms, bridal style. 

Louis lets out a surprised gasp, lips curving into a grin when Harry presses a kiss to his temple. He wraps his arms around Harry’s neck, leaning into him. 

“Wanna put a baby in you,” Harry murmurs, voice deep and heady with lust. 

“Do it,” says Louis, sounding shy and eager. 

Harry kicks his shoes off and heads to the bedroom, ducking down and slotting their lips together as he lays Louis back on the bed and crawls over him to cage him in. 

He can already see what it’s going to be like: slower, more tender than some of the sex they have usually, not that he’s upset about it. Balance between more extreme scenes and gentler (but still intense) ones like this is good for their dynamic. 

Plus, it gives Harry the chance to worship Louis’ body properly. Well, there’s never a time where he  _ doesn’t  _ worship Louis, but it’s nice to take his time instead of rushing it. 

Starting by kissing down the side of his neck, open-mouthed and lingering. Then gripping the front of his shirt and yanking it down to suck a bruise on his collarbone. 

Louis curls his fingers into his hair, pulling unconsciously and letting out soft little sighs of pleasure. Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever get over how much he loves how fucking  _ loud _ Louis is.

“Gonna make tons of babies,” he’s slurring. 

“Tons,” Harry agrees, sucking another bruise right under the first one. He gets a little lost in it- wanting to cover every inch of Louis’ soft tanned skin with his lips and teeth. He’s done it countless times before but the urge never fades. “On your back?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathes. “Want to see you when you’re knocking me up.”

Harry groans, not fighting it when Louis pulls at his clothes, helping him take his shirt off and then shove his jeans down. 

Small fingers fumble with his briefs, pushing them down. Harry pulls them off all the way, hissing when Louis grips his cock. He makes a mental note to let Louis undress him more often, loving the feeling of soft fingers stroking his cock, lazily but eagerly. 

He slots their lips together again, keeping them attached as he fumbles for the nightstand the lube he has conveniently out all the time for easy access. 

Louis squirms when Harry circles his rim with a slick finger, inching in to the knuckle slowly and licking into Louis’ mouth until he untenses and he can ease it all the way in. 

Fingering is something Harry can spend all day doing if he really wanted to, especially with Louis. There’s little Harry enjoys more than opening Louis up for his cock and watching Louis slowly fall apart, rendered into a mess of whimpers, whines, and desperation. His favorite is when he gets up to three fingers and Louis begins rocking into them, like he’s trying to fuck himself with Harry’s fingers. 

Sometimes when it happens he just stops moving, letting Louis do the work and watching with heavy eyes as he starts trembling and begging for his cock. It’s what he does now, keeping his fingers still as Louis whines and grinds into them, hips stuttering and body squirming for relief. Harry just watches, throat dry and dick pleased. 

Honestly, he could do anything all day long if it involved Louis looking and sounding pretty. He’s easy like that. 

Eventually, his patience wears thin and he appeases Louis’ pleads, pumping his fingers in a few more times just in case before sliding them out and grabbing the lube again. He jacks off a bit to relieve tension before slicking up and aligning himself. 

Louis wraps his legs around his waist as he carefully eases in, exhaling at the tight drag around his cock when he bottoms out. 

“Go, go, go,” Louis urges, tapping his fingers against Harry’s shoulders. “Knock me up.” 

“I will, baby,” Harry grunts, easing out leisurely before pushing back in twice as fast.

He ducks down to mouth up Louis’ neck, sucking lazily as he carves out a steady pace, fucking in slow and measured. He lets his thrusts drag out, driving in deeper and deeper. 

Louis tangles his fingers in his hair, pulling slightly as Harry rams into him. He’s panting, a litany of soft, throaty noises tearing through his lips. 

Harry kisses down Louis’ neck to his sternum, mouthing messily at Louis’ nipples until he whines, trembling. 

Throat dry, Harry glances down at Louis’ stomach and groans. “Can you feel me there?” he murmurs, placing his hand there and pressing down over the slight outline of his cock until he jumps. He attaches their lips quickly, mumbling against them, “Where our baby will be?”

Louis keens, mouth falling slack as Harry licks into it. 

“Everyone’s going to know,” Harry rasps, hips snapping forward of their own accord. “Gonna know that I fucked you. That I fucked you so deep, I knocked you up. Gonna be carrying my baby. Everyone will know.”

“Everyone will know I’m  _ yours _ ,” Louis gasps, fingers digging into his scalp almost excruciatingly. 

Harry groans, slamming in even harder. “That’s right, baby. All mine. Mine to fuck and knock up.  _ God,  _ you’ll look perfect with my baby. Always gonna keep you pregnant.”

He gets a little dizzy with it, imagining him and Louis and a horde of little children that look like them. Louis and his natural nurturing instincts. The best parent anyone could hope for. The best partner Harry could hope for, Jesus. 

“Never let you and our baby out of my sight,” Harry continues, voice going choppy along with his thrusts. He bites down on Louis’ shoulder, feeling Louis’ shiver. 

“Harry,” Louis whines, jolting when his bundle of nerves is finally hit. 

He maintains the angle, ramming in faster and faster as his orgasm builds up inside him. 

“Can’t wait to have a family with you,” Harry murmurs, raw honesty and reverence bleeding into his words as he hitches Louis’ legs up and slots their lips together again. 

Louis sobs, mumbling an incoherent reply against his lips as Harry licks into his mouth. 

His release builds up quickly and his thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier as he reaches the edge. Louis seems close too, squirming and crying out and being loud, loud, loud- being perfect.

Harry wraps his hand around Louis’ neck, mumbling a hoarse, “Color?” 

“Green,” Louis gasps out, choking when Harry immediately presses down. His fingers twitch in Harry’s hair. 

“I love you,” he says, throat heavy. He reattaches their lips, swallowing Louis’ strangled cry as he comes between them. It only takes a few more thrusts until he’s shoving in as deep as he can go and emptying his release into Louis’ waiting hole. 

For a minute, Harry just stays there, wanting every drop of cum to get into Louis’ hole. He can’t actually get Louis pregnant but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do the best to pretend he is. 

With that in mind, he kisses Louis’ slack mouth and mumbles a quick, “Be right back,” as he slides out and gets off the bed onto shaky legs. 

He stumbles to the dresser and the top drawer where he finds that peach butt plug which they’ve used only a few times since he bought it. He grabs a rag too. 

Louis’ eyes flicker to the plug when Harry walks back, already spreading his legs and lifting his hips so Harry can ease it in and trap his cum in Louis’ hole, hissing at the sensitivity. 

“There we go, kitten," Harry murmurs, wiping Louis down gently. He presses a lingering kiss to Louis’ belly button, nipping a bit at the soft skin and smiling when Louis giggles, ticklish. 

He lets himself be pulled up to Louis’ lips, kissing him softly before carefully rolling them over so that Louis’ resting on his chest, tucking his head into Harry’s neck and nuzzling into his skin. 

They rest in the silence for a bit, nothing but the sound of breathing and the beat of his own heart to disrupt his peace. However, a thought fights against his lips and he reluctantly lets it out. 

“I meant it, you know,” he confesses softly, resting his chin on top of Louis’ head and closing his eyes. 

“That you love me? I know that, idiot,” Louis says softly, words sliding together like syrup. “And I love you too.” 

“No,” Harry says, lips brushing against Louis’ hair. He inhales the scent of peaches, letting it calm the pounding of his heart. “That one day I want to have kids with you.” He’s twenty-one, still getting his degree, still figuring life out- but he’s sure about this. Sure about his heart. 

Louis stills, tilting his head up wordlessly to look at Harry, studying the unintentional blush across his cheeks.

Harry doesn’t get embarrassed or shy too often but Louis makes him feel like a little kid sometimes, all giddy with hopes and dreams and pulsing love. He makes his heart feel so full and his insides feel like mush. 

“Me too,” Louis says fondly, breaking through the thoughts of insecurity and doubt festering in Harry’s chest. He leans up and pecks Harry’s lips, letting the chaste kiss turn into something slower and sweeter. “I love you,” he mumbles against Harry’s lips. “I’m yours.” 

“I love you,” Harry echoes, cradling Louis’ face tenderly. “We’re each other’s.” 

The kiss turns scorching, Harry licking into Louis’ mouth and swallowing his soft sounds, holding him close to his chest with an arm around his waist and the other hand curled around his neck, thumb pressed into his pulse so he can feel Louis’ heart beat. 

One day, he’s going to propose to this beautiful boy. Buy a ring and get down on one knee and ask Louis to be his for the rest of their lives. He has no idea when or how or where, but he knows it’ll happen. That they’ll happen. 

They’re a promise that’ll never be broken. 

-


	8. got the world shaking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tags: domspace, finger sucking, mirror sex, anal fingering, anal sex (from behind), breathplay, some spanking

**_April -_ **

Harry wakes up itching for bare skin and soft whimpers, cock hard and heavy in his briefs and an ache settled deep in his stomach. 

It’s not just normal morning arousal- not even close. It’s stronger, more intense, and it’s been building up for days. 

It’s April now. There’s three weeks until graduation and two weeks until finals and everything feels like it’s on double speed. Classes are wrapping up, the blurry visions of a future after getting a degree and graduating are becoming less and less of a distant dream, and everything feels like chaos- crazy, busy  _ chaos.  _

Professors are cramming as many assignments into their last few classes as possible and Harry’s been asked to take on extra shifts because Jess broke her leg and can’t come in for the next month and they haven’t found a replacement for Paul who quit a week ago. Not to mention, Harry’s spent a ridiculous amount of time entertaining Niall’s insistence that the three of them need to spend their last few weeks as college students (which is not even true for Harry considering he’s returning to campus in the Fall for his Masters) crossing off items on his “list.” 

His “list” which includes taking advantage of every student discount possible in the greater London area, crashing parties with people they don’t know, going clubbing in the middle of the week, going to every school sporting event whether they know anything about it or not, and streaking through campus. The last one hasn’t happened yet and Liam is trying his absolute hardest to make sure it never does. Even though Harry admittedly has some nudist tendencies, he’s coming back next semester and he really doesn’t want “ran naked through the commons” to be his first impression as a grad student. 

Anyways, the point is Harry’s been so busy, he’s barely gotten any time with Louis. As in, he hasn’t touched Louis in three days.  _ Three. Days.  _ They’ve texted, yeah, but everything’s been so crazy and suddenly it’s been seventy two hours since he’s seen his favorite shade of blue and kissed the lips he can never stop thinking about. 

He feels wired up and agitated, desperate to not just see his boyfriend but to make him fall apart, to be in charge of his pleasure and evoke emotions and reactions he doesn’t know he can feel.

Normally, it’s Louis that gets all antsy and worked up during breaks, gets  _ needy  _ and eager to be taken care of in that intimate way that only Harry can provide. It’s more widely thought that only subs get into moods like that, moods where they’re dependent on their dom to satisfy them. 

It’s less talked about when it’s doms that get an itch like that, an urge not to be taken care of but to take care of someone. It’s what Harry’s feeling now- a deep ache burrowing into his chest and grating at his insides, making him restless and anxious. 

He texts Louis to tell him he’s coming over after his last class in the afternoon, knowing Louis doesn’t have a shift or need to babysit today. He also tells him he’s got a very good possibility of going into domspace if they do anything so Louis should prepare himself. 

Domspace. Seen as the equivalent of subspace but for doms. Harry doesn’t think it’s quite right. While it does include the same heightened sensations and feelings that subs undergo in subspace, it’s not quite the same loss of coherence or awareness. It can’t and shouldn’t be, not when you have another person you’re responsible for and in control of like doms have subs. Not when you have to be vigilant and conscious so you don’t miss any signs of distress or worse, a safeword. 

Harry won’t lie and say he still doesn’t frequently think of that one almost-disaster last summer when he just barely heard Louis say his safeword when he was close to losing control. That can’t and shouldn’t happen, even in domspace. 

Instead, it feels like a rush of adrenaline, like everything focuses and narrows down to your sub and making sure they’re being pleasured and taken care of properly. He’s feeling the beginning wisps of it now, urges to call and check that Louis is safe and content, a deep desire to be the one making him feel safe and content. 

The day drags on excruciatingly slow and Harry is practically vibrating with his need to feel Louis by the time he’s let out of his last class and free to see him. 

His fingers maintain an iron grip around the steering wheel as he drives to Louis and Zayn’s, veins pumping with eagerness and excitement. 

He pretty much runs into the building and catches the elevator right before the door closes. He presses the button for the second floor vigorously, smiling awkwardly when he realizes the lady in there with him is giving him an odd look. 

The doors open and Harry forces himself to walk at a normal pace: right, left, right, left, rightleftrightleft. He knocks on the door hurriedly, sucking in a breath as the seconds pass by at a snail’s pace. 

It takes exactly thirty-seven seconds for the door to slide open and for Louis’ figure to register in his mind, vision finally sharpening and focusing.

“Hey,” Louis says, eyes wide and curious. “Are you-”

Harry wraps him up in a hug, tension slowly leeching from his body as Louis curls his arms around his neck and stands on his tiptoes to tuck his head into the crook of Harry’s shoulder. He noses into Louis’ hair, inhaling his peach shampoo and sliding a hand up the back of his shirt. He splays his fingers out on the warm expanse of Louis’ back, marveling at how one hand can encompass almost the entire area. 

“Wanna take care of you,” he mumbles, pressing the words into the thin fabric of Louis’ ABBA shirt. “Need to take care of you.” 

Louis shudders, hands coming up to rest flat against Harry’s chest as he exhales. “Take care of me, then,” he says. 

Harry walks them backwards, hoisting Louis up easily and waiting for Louis to lock his legs around him before continuing. Picking Louis up and carrying him to the bedroom is something that’s become quite common in their escapades, not that either of them would complain. He likes hauling Louis around like that, holding him close and treating him like the treasure he is.

Louis’ bedroom represents him so effortlessly, he’s still in awe. Everything about it- the pictures of family and friends and of Harry, the crammed bookshelf filled with well-read and well-loved spines, the random bolts of fabric and other supplies laying everywhere while still appearing like it’s  _ supposed _ to be there, the endless amount of plants dotting every free surface, the purple bedspread and variety of throw pillows and blankets, the makeup sprawled out on the dresser, the empty tea cup on the nightstand beside a pair of wire rim glasses, Harry’s jacket slung over the desk chair, the laptop opened to job offerings for - it all fits together to create the intricate enigma that is Louis Tomlinson. 

He lays Louis back before going for Louis’ nightstand for lube, desperation licking up his sides. Louis’ already naked when he returns, legs spread and exposing his fluttering hole. 

Harry grunts, finding his place between them. He slicks up his fingers and eases one in. Louis mewls, clenching around the intrusion before slowly relaxing as Harry places a flat hand on his stomach.

He pumps his finger in slowly, taking his time as he surveys the room. His eyes snag on the full length mirror Louis has propped against the wall. 

“Baby,” he says, sliding a second finger in and scissoring his fingers. “Is that mirror bolted to the wall?”

“Yes,” Louis breathes, eyes flickering shut as Harry starts aiming for his spot. 

“Good,” Harry says, crooking his fingers before jamming them straight back. 

Louis spasms, whining high in his throat. “Harry,” he gasps, beginning to fuck back onto Harry’s fingers impatiently. Harry lets him do it, stilling his own movements and smirking when Louis whimpers in frustration. “Take care of me,” he pleads. 

It goes straight to his cock. “I will, kitten,” he promises, inching a third finger in and focusing on stretching him open. “Just need to get you ready.”

“Ready for your big cock,” Louis murmurs, still trying to grind into Harry’s fingers but being stopped by Harry’s hand pressing firmly on his tummy. He whines. 

“Patience, peach,” Harry says, amused. He takes his free hand and presses three fingers to Louis’ lips, pleased when they automatically part and Louis immediately takes them into his mouth, sucking lightly. 

The pulsing need to pleasure and take care of Louis is still there, bubbling up in his throat and pounding in his heart. His gaze is laser-focused on the rise and fall of Louis’ chest as he heaves for breath, the bloom of pink across his face, and the paleness of his fingers as they curl into the sheets and cling helplessly. It’s like his own ability to continue what he’s doing is dependent on whether Louis is feeling good. He is, choking around Harry’s fingers when he pushes them back to his throat and quivering as Harry hits his prostate again. 

He starts begging too, a jumble of incoherent words spilling from his lips and getting stuck around Harry’s fingers. 

But Harry still hears him, fucking in a few more times slowly, thoroughly, before sliding all fingers out from both places. He ducks in to peck Louis on the lips, dragging his mouth to his ear and nipping his earlobe before murmuring, “Gonna fuck you in front of the mirror and you’re going to watch yourself, okay? Gonna watch yourself fall apart on my cock. Sound good?” 

Louis shivers, nodding. 

Dropping a pillow into Louis’ shaking hands, he whispers his order directly into Louis’ ear. “Go set that down and get on your hands and knees. Hands on the mirror. Eyes open. I’ll count down from five.” 

He doesn’t wait for Louis to move before saying, “Five.” 

Louis scrambles off the bed, racing to the mirror while Harry stands up and begins undressing leisurely. 

“Four,” he says conversationally, unbuttoning his jeans and shoving them down. “Three.” It may appear controlled and even lazily to anyone looking, but his movements are stilted and charged with energy, impatience rolling off him in waves. “Two.” 

Glancing over, he exhales when he sees Louis has obeyed. “One,” he finishes, yanking his shirt off and stalking towards him.

He lingers standing up behind Louis’ knelt body, looming over his smaller figure and admiring the picture it makes in the mirror. 

His cock hangs heavy and red between his legs, aching. He grips it absently, stroking to alleviate some of the tension as he rakes his gaze over Louis’ twitching fingers, hands flat against the glass. The line of his spine, the curve of his arse, the quiver in his thighs. 

“Harry,” Louis breathes, eyes hazy as they strain to meet his through the mirror. “Need you.”

And who is he to ignore that? He slicks up carefully, before settling in behind Louis, knees brushing the sides and backs of his as he lines up. He slaps his cock against Louis’ hole a bit, smearing precum on his arse cheeks.

The drag as he slowly eases in is pure bliss, tight and warm and perfect. He braces his hands on Louis’ hips, holding him steady as he jerks and shakes. 

He waits a bit, savoring the feeling before lifting his gaze to the mirror where he can see Louis’ head tipped back in pleasure, mouth gaping and eyes shut. 

“Eyes open,” he says sternly. 

Louis obliges, eyes widening as he stares at the mirror and his own flushed face. 

Harry tightens his grip on his hips, fingers digging in and leaving imprints as Louis gasps. “Look at yourself,” he says. “Look how wrecked you look already. Haven’t even started moving yet.” 

“Move,” Louis begs, pushing back onto his cock eagerly. There’s already tears forming in his eyes, making them look even bigger and brighter. Two tears drip out when Harry lands a slap to his left cheek, firm and deft. He follows it with a matching one to the right. Louis cries out, shaking. 

“Watch yourself for me,” Harry commands, before adjusting his grip and sliding out. He doesn’t wait before ramming back in roughly. “Watch how good I make you feel.” 

There’s no gradual buildup of speed today. His hips snap forward unconsciously, mind narrowing down to his goal of making Louis come, making him feel good, taking care of him in the most carnal and intimate way he can. 

His heart thunders in his ears, hammering in his chest and sending blood rushing through his body as he slams forward. In this position, he’s able to go impossibly deep, the drag rough and deliberate. 

He leans forward and mouths wetly at Louis’ spine, feeling his body quiver underneath his lips as he continues his brutal pace, fucking in with concentrated fervor. 

Everything has sharpened in his mind, senses charged and processing vividly. Louis’ pants, breathy and strained. His whimpers and moans, ragged and desperate. The distinct tremble of his hands as they slide down on the mirror, fumbling for purchase as Harry changes angles and hits his spot straight out.

Louis screams, the sound breaking off into a choked whimper as Harry continues aiming for his prostate with agonizing precision. 

“Look at you,” Harry grunts, fisting a hand in Louis’ hair and pulling until he whines, head tilted to the mirror. He drapes himself over Louis’ back and bites down on his shoulder. “Taking my cock so well, peach.”

“Feels so good,” Louis slurs, yelping when the next thrust propels him forward and his cheek gets smushed against the mirror. 

Harry groans at the sight, staying plastered to Louis’ back as he presses his hands flat over Louis’ on the mirror, keeping them from sliding down as he continues pushing in. 

“Taking care of me so well,” Louis mumbles encouragingly, voice muffled by the glass. It’s beginning to fog up too, a product of their breath and the heat radiating from skin against skin. Harry has to wipe a spot that gets particularly smoky, not wanting Louis’ vision to be obscured when he comes. 

And he’s going to come soon. Harry can tell by the way he arches up into Harry’s chest, squirming and writhing helplessly. It’s all enhanced in his heightened state, every miniscule movement, twitch, or sound catalogued and registering in his mind in satisfaction. He’s fulfilling his job, his duty. He’s taking care of Louis. 

He takes his right hand and wraps it around Louis’ throat, feeling the muscles contract against his palm as Louis swallows in anticipation. 

“Color?” he grunts, ramming in. 

“Green,” Louis croaks, whining when Harry presses down and squeezes, cutting off his airflow for ten crackling moments. Louis chokes, slumping forward as he comes with his eyes and mouth wide open. 

Harry releases his hold, returning his hand to its place above Louis’ as he continues fucking in. Euphoria and pleasure spike in his body, finally content to focus on his own pleasure now that he’s provided Louis’. He shoves in deep and coats Louis’ insides with white, pumping hot cum into his spent body and filling him up. Taking care of him. 

It takes a bit longer for him to find his bearings after, the haze of his domspace drifting away slowly. When he comes back to himself, he realizes Louis has slid off his dick, turning around and slumping into Harry’s chest. 

His arms around Harry’s middle and he’s whispering soft words in his ear. “Love it when you take care of me,” he’s saying. 

“I love taking care of you,” Harry says, words stumbling over themselves and sliding like syrup. He noses into Louis’ warm neck, inhaling the smell of sex and sweat. “Wanna take care of you for the rest of my life.” 

Louis stills, before relaxing. “I want you to take care of me for the rest of my life too,” he says softly. It’s not necessarily the first time they’ve talked so long-term like this- not the first and definitely not the last, but it’s still a bit new. New enough for Harry to feel a weight ease in his chest at Louis’ reassurance of wanting the same thing. 

They stay there, locked in a sweaty embrace with cum drying between their stomachs for a while until Louis starts complaining exaggeratedly and Harry gets up to get a rag, always ready to take care of him whether he’s being a brat or not. 

Then he continues tradition and carries Louis to his bed, laying down himself and pulling Louis into his chest. He exhales, contentment and peace filling his lungs and flaring in his heart. 

“I just realized something,” Louis murmurs after a few minutes of silence. 

“Hm?” Harry takes Louis’ hand, pressing an absent-minded kiss to the back of it and lingering. Louis’ hand is so soft, he thinks. He’s soft all over and Harry loves it, loves him. 

“A year ago,” Louis starts, intertwining their fingers and squeezing. “Almost a year ago exactly, we were just becoming friends.” 

Harry blinks, taken aback at the words. “You’re right,” he says, disbelief rising inside him. He traces back through his memories of that time, how they were halfway through their sessions and he was still in denial as to how much he was enjoying them, enjoying Louis. “God, I can’t believe I was such an oblivious idiot.”

Louis giggles, cheeks rosy and smile wide when Harry glances at him, heart warmed at the sight. “I didn’t make it easy on you.” 

Frowning, Harry pinches his side, making him squirm. “No, you didn’t, you little brat,” he says, much too fondly. 

“Anyway,” Louis says, poking him in the ribs in retaliation. “Look how far we’ve come.” 

“I’m your dom boyfriend,” Harry says smugly. 

“My ‘kinky significant other’ if I recall correctly,” Louis teases. 

Harry groans. “Idiots. We were idiots,” he says, tugging Louis closer and hugging him tight.

“We got there in the end,” Louis says softly. He leans up and rests his forehead against Harry’s, noses bumping and smiles brushing. “I’m so grateful,” he whispers, fingers sliding into Harry’s hair tenderly. “So grateful you went along with my blackmailing.” 

Harry scoffs. “As if Louis Tomlinson could ever blackmail anyone,” he tuts, pecking Louis on the lips. “I’m so grateful you found my blog and tried to threaten me,” he mumbles. “Even though we both know the idea of you having any control over me is _ laughable. _ ”

Louis swats him in the chest but he doesn’t deny it. “I love you,” he says. 

“I love you,” Harry echoes, cradling Louis’ face carefully, like he’s got the most precious treasure in the world in his hands. 

He does. 

They bask in the silence again, looking at each other so intensely, so reverently. 

“Zayn wants to move in with his girlfriend,” Louis blurts suddenly. 

Harry stills. “What?” he asks. 

“He wants to move in with his girlfriend this summer,” Louis says, shy. “I’ve known for a bit and I’ve been trying to think about how to bring it up because I know it’s a big step but I think we’re ready for it. I mean, we spend most of our time living in each other’s rooms and there’s really no need for there to be two of them- two rooms, that is. But, of course, if you’re not ready for it, I’d completely understand. I just really-”

“Baby,” Harry interrupts, lips twitching in amusement. 

Louis looks panicked, eyes wide and a blush spreading across his cheeks. 

“Baby,” Harry repeats, thumbing over his cheekbone. “Ask me the question already.”

“Do you want to move in together?” Louis mumbles, cheeks pink and eyes eager. 

“Yeah,” Harry says softly. “I want to move in together, want to find a nice flat with a nice view and a nice bed. A nice flat with lots of  _ privacy,  _ where I can fuck you whenever and wherever I want without worrying about traumatizing our friends or being sanitary.”

“We’re still going to be as sanitary as possible, but continue,” Louis interrupts, smiling. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “A nice flat that’s close to campus and your parents’ place and the boys because they’ll hate us if they have to drive over half an hour to see us.”

“With lots of windows for fresh air and natural light,” Louis says dreamily, “and a big shower.” He smirks. 

“Definitely a big shower,” Harry agrees, lips ghosting along Louis’ cheek. “A flat of our own.”

“A  _ home _ of our own,” Louis corrects. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too, baby,” Harry says, voice heavy. “Me too.” 

In a month and a half, he and Louis will have been dating for an entire year. An entire year with the best person knows- the sweetest, smartest, most beautiful person he’s ever met. Of laughter and smiles and kisses and hugs and fucking and maybe fighting but never for long because Louis doesn’t like Harry being upset with him and Harry physically can’t be upset with Louis for longer than a few hours. A year of falling asleep in the same bed more often than not, of holding hands and going on dates. Of knowing each other inside and out. Of taking care of each other in the bedroom and out of it. Of belonging to each other. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Louis murmurs, back to nuzzling into his neck like a sleepy kitten. 

“Thinking about peaches,” Harry says immediately, heart full and smile dopey. 

A whole year of peaches. 

-

**Author's Note:**

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